


The End Of The Innocence

by connorwalshruinedmylife (shewantstoplayhearts)



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Angst, Boarding School AU, F/M, Fluff, High School AU, M/M, Underage Drinking, Underage Drug Use, mentioned Homophobia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-03
Updated: 2017-11-23
Packaged: 2018-12-10 20:03:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 30,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11698941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shewantstoplayhearts/pseuds/connorwalshruinedmylife
Summary: Boarding school au where they're all just a little bit lost.





	1. 1

“Mr. Walsh, I’m sorry, but there’s no negotiating this. We have given your son every opportunity to correct his behavior in the past, but this has gone too far. We don’t tolerate fighting at this school.”  
Connor rolls his eyes, speaking up even though he’d been told to stay quiet. “Correct my behavior? You mean standing up for myself? You don’t tolerate fighting, but homophobia and bullying is apparently okay?”  
“Connor.” His dad’s voice is deathly calm, but Connor recognizes the anger that’s hiding behind it. He shuts his mouth, knowing better than to try defending himself further.  
Connor’s dad stands up and shakes the principal’s hand stiffly. “I apologize for my son’s behavior. Thanks for trying with him.”  
 He all but storms out of the office, leaving Connor to trail after him.  
It’s between classes, and the halls are filled with students. Connor keeps his eyes firmly fixed on the ground in front of him, his ears burning with embarrassment as he feels the stares of his now former classmates. Their whispers follow him; he knows he’s about to be the hottest topic of gossip in years. Again.  
He waits until they’re in the car before he speaks.  
“Dad - ”  
“Don’t you dare say another word, Connor.” His father’s face is red, the vein on his forehead that only appears when he’s beyond furious is throbbing, and Connor knows he’s in deep shit this time. “Don’t you dare speak to me right now. You’re a goddamn disgrace.”  
Connor nods, closing his eyes and leaning his head against the cool window as they drive home in silence.  
His mother is waiting for them in the foyer when they get home. She looks past Connor, as she always does, and gives his father a look, like she’s already expecting the answer she’s about to receive.  
“Were you able to convince them to let him stay?”  
“I tried, but they refused.”  
“Right.” His mother finally shifts her cold gaze onto him. “Go to your room. Now.”  
He’d usually argue, but there’s something in his mother’s voice that makes him keep his mouth shut. It was disgust, he realizes as he trudges upstairs. He disgusts his mother.  
He'd always known she was disappointed in him, but the disgust is new. He refuses to let himself dwell on it, to let her hurt him even more. He lays down on his bed and opens Grindr up on his phone, searching for a hookup for the weekend. He sees a few options, but none that really catch his eye. He gives up, figuring he’ll let someone else make the first move. They usually do.

 

His parents are already seated at the dining room table when he goes downstairs for dinner later that evening. Connor slinks into his seat, his food already plated for him. He isn’t hungry, so he just picks at his food while his parents eat, their silence only broken with occasional comments about how well Connor’s older sister is doing. She’s moved to London for work, their bright shining star offspring. He loves his sister, but he can’t help but be resentful that their parents don’t even attempt to hide how much they favor her over him.  
“Eat your food, Connor.” His father is glaring at him from across the table.  
“I’m not hungry.”  
His father slams his hands on the table so hard that the water glasses jump. “Listen up, you ungrateful little shit. Your mother cooked that meal for you, and you’re going to eat every last bite of it.”  
Connor looks down at his plate. There’s not a single thing on it that he likes. In fact, he’s pretty sure his mother went out of her way to make something that incorporated all of his _least_ favorite foods. He laughs incredulously.  
“I don’t like any of this food. She didn’t make this for me.”  
He’s just able to dodge the glass that’s thrown at him in time; he hears the glass shattering as it hits the wall behind him and he stares at his father in shock. They’ve had a lot of fights over the years, but he’s never gotten physically violent with Connor before, and the realization that he’s gone too far sinks in. His stomach twists with anxiety as his father stands, pointing a finger towards him and shaking with anger.  
“You’re done here. I mean it. I don’t want you in this house anymore.”  
Connor can feel his palms starting to sweat. “Where am I supposed to go?”  
“I know someone on the board at Middleton Prep Boarding School in Pennsylvania.” His mother finally speaks up. “We’ve already made the arrangements for you to start there on Monday.”  
She looks over at her husband, telling him, “I can give her a call, there should be no problem getting him in tomorrow instead.”  
Her voice is flat, expressionless, like she’s talking about taking the dog to the groomer, not sending her son to live somewhere else. Connor feels like his entire world is spinning off its axis, and he can feel the anxiety start to build up inside of him. He blinks quickly, willing himself not to cry in front of his parents. His life may be in a freefall, but he refuses to give them the satisfaction of seeing him break.  
“Go pack your bags, Connor,” his father tells him coldly. “You’re leaving here first thing in the morning.”  
His mother won’t even look at him as he leaves the room.

 

  
He already took some Xanax before going downstairs, but he grabs the pill bottle and takes another one. He doesn’t want to feel anything tonight.  
He pulls out a duffel bag and starts throwing his clothes into it, setting his laptop in the center so as not to damage it. His pill bottles go inside his shoes, to prevent them rattling around and being heard by anyone at his new school. He’ll need to find a pharmacy nearby to have his dad send his refilled prescriptions to, he realizes. His father may hate him, but he’ll keep prescribing the medications he thinks will keep him under control. There isn’t anything else he cares to take. If he’s leaving, he’s sure as fuck not going to bring anything that will remind him of the hell he’s lived in for the past few years.


	2. 2

The bright side to being sent away to boarding school, besides being free from his parent’s breathing down his neck, is the lack of a uniform. Connor fucking hated those prep school uniforms. The campus is large, with double story houses spread out around green fields and lush bushes, and vines neatly snaking up the red brick walls of the administration’s office. It’s clearly costing his parents a small fortune to send him here.  
_No price is too high when it comes to getting rid of their son_ , he thinks bitterly.  
He follows the headmaster’s assistant down the hallway of the second floor in the house he’s been assigned to stay in, ignoring the looks she keeps shooting him. He’s pretty sure the fact that his parents didn’t even bother coming on the tour with him, choosing instead to leave him in the headmaster’s office with a warning of, “don’t you dare screw this one up” has her wondering what’s wrong with him.  
“Well, here you are, Mr. Walsh.” Ms. Winterbottom stops in front of a door at the end of the hallway. “This will be your room for the rest of the school year.”  
Connor nods. “Got it.”  
“We have a strict no noise policy after nine. If you want to stay up all night, that’s on you, but we do ask you to respect your roommate’s schedule and those of the other boys in this house. Anyone caught violating that policy will have their off-campus privileges revoked for the following weekend.”  
Connor just nods again, already zoning her out. He just wants to get inside and take another Xanax before his roommate gets back from classes.  
“Right.” Ms. Winterbottom rolls her eyes, clearly aware of Connor’s disinterest. “Here’s your key. Don’t lose it.”  
He salutes her and watches her walk off down the hallway, her heels sinking into the plush beige carpeting as she goes. She hesitates outside another bedroom door, then glances back to see Connor still watching her. She straightens her back and marches off.  
_Interesting_ , he thinks.  
He lets himself into the room and looks around. It’s larger than he’d expected, with space for two twin sized beds against opposite walls, a large bookshelf lining the wall between them. There are two desks along the third wall, facing each other, with large wardrobes behind them. He walks over to the bare side of the room, dropping his bag beside the bed before he collapses on top of it. It’s a lot more comfortable than he’d been expecting. He kicks off his shoes and rifles through his bag until he finds his pills. He needs that fucking Xanax, stat.  
They have a private bathroom, he notices, which is a relief. He hates communal showers.  
He heads over to his roommate’s side of the room, trying to see if he can figure out what kind of person he’s going to be stuck living with for the rest of the school year. His shelf is filled with books, both for school and ones he clearly just chooses to read on his free time. His DVD collection is okay, it’s fairly large, but there’s not a lot of films in it that Connor would choose to watch twice.  
He unpacks his clothes into his wardrobe, trying his best to straighten the creases out of his shirts, then heads into the bathroom to take a shower. He’s been up since four am and he feels gross after a day of travelling.

 

He doesn’t expect anyone to be in the room when he walks out of the bathroom naked, using his towel to dry off his hair. His eyes immediately land on a boy sitting on his roommate’s bed, staring at him with wide eyes and pink cheeks.  
“Oh shit.” Connor flushes, hurriedly wrapping the towel around his waist. “I didn’t think you’d be back anytime soon.”  
The other boy blinks a few times behind his glasses, seemingly at a loss for words.  
“They did tell you that you’d be getting a new roommate, right?”  
The boy finally finds his voice. “Yeah, sorry. Um, I’m Oliver. Oliver Hampton.”  
“Nice to meet you. I’m Connor Walsh.” He motions downwards. “Sorry your first impression of me was a little more than you were hoping for.”  
“It’s anything but little.” Oliver blurts out. He freezes, looking horrified at his own words, and Connor bursts out laughing.  
“Well thanks for the confidence boost.” He winks at him, causing Oliver’s face to turn an even deeper shade of red. He hurriedly pulls on his underwear and lets the towel drop as he rummages through his dresser for some pants.  
“I can’t believe I just said that.” His roommate groans, then looks at Connor pleadingly. “I will give you ten dollars right now if you promise not to rub it in my face or tell anyone.”  
“Keep your money, I won’t tell anyone. But I could rub it in your face if you wanted.” He wiggles his eyebrows. He’s incapable of not attempting to flirt with anyone he finds attractive, and his new roommate definitely falls into that category.  
Oliver takes a moment to register what Connor is implying, then rolls his eyes, clearly annoyed.  
“Great, I see you’ve already taken it upon yourself to snoop through my things. Yeah, I’m gay. I get enough gay jokes during class, I don’t need them in my room as well.”  
“I didn’t look at your stuff, I swear!” Connor holds up both hands, protesting his innocence. “Okay, I did look, but only at what was out in the open on the bookshelf. I would never look at anything personal, I swear. And besides,” he says softly, “any jokes I make apply to myself, too.”  
“Oh.” Oliver looks embarrassed. “Sorry I went off on you like that. Today hasn’t been the best day for me.”  
“Hey, I get it. Trust me.”  
Oliver’s lips twitch, like he’s trying to smile but can’t quite get his muscles to work. His eyes look sad behind his glasses.  
“Is that why you’re back early? I thought classes didn’t end until four.”  
“Yeah, I pretended to twist my ankle playing soccer during gym class so they let me go early.” He shrugs. “I just needed a break. I forgot you were going to be here.”  
They fall into an awkward silence, Oliver still looking slightly embarrassed.  
“Um, can I ask you something?” Connor’s a bit hesitant to ask, but he needs to know now, before he meets anyone else, before he lets his guard down again. “You mentioned getting made fun of…is there a lot of that around here?”  
“A lot of bullying?”  
“Yeah. Um, bullying specifically aimed at people like us.”  
“Not really. There’s this guy, Simon, who likes to make jokes at my expense and a lot of them end up being about my sexuality. But on the whole people are pretty tolerant here.”  
Connor sighs with relief. “You have no idea how happy I am to hear that. The homophobia at my last school was awful.”  
“Is that why you transferred mid-semester?” Oliver looks interested.  
“Sort of.” Connor shrugs, then scoffs. “I got kicked out after I finally stood up for myself.”  
Oliver winces in sympathy. “Sounds rough.”  
“Nah, it’s not all bad. It got me out of an awful place.”  
Oliver doesn’t press him further, clearly believing that awful place to be his prior school, which Connor is grateful for. He doesn’t want to admit that it was so much more than that.  
They make small talk for a while, until Oliver’s phone buzzes with a text. He reads it quickly, then looks at Connor.  
“My friends are already in the dining hall. You want to join us for dinner?”  
“Sure,” Connor nods, grateful that his roommate is friendly enough to include him. Having someone to stick with helps ease his anxiety a bit.

 

 

He follows Oliver outside and across the quad. The dining hall is fairly close to their dorm, which is a relief. He’s not one to hurry himself getting ready in the morning, so being able to sleep in a little longer instead of having to make sure he has enough time to trudge across campus to get breakfast before classes start is perfectly fine by him.  
They stand in line for their food, and he tries not to feel self-conscious. He can feel the stares of the other students around him, can hear their whispers and hushed voices as they speculate about him. _Who he is? Why is he starting here in the middle of the semester?_ He knows how gossip works, and if he doesn’t give them anything to talk about they’ll be bored of him soon enough. He tries to drown them out, turning to Oliver.  
“Why don’t we use the kitchen in the house to make our meals?” He already knows, Ms. Winterbottom had told him during the tour, but he’s desperate for a distraction from the stares.  
“They find it easier to feed us in bulk during the week. The kitchens in the dorms are meant for keeping snacks and food for the weekend if you don’t leave campus.”  
They’ve reached the front of the line, and Oliver piles his tray up with food. The Xanax has curved Connor’s appetite, so he just grabs a slice of pizza and a bottle of water and follows Oliver over to a table. There are already two boys seated there, and Oliver quickly introduces them.  
“Guys, this is my new roommate, Connor. Connor, these are my best friends, Asher and Wes.”  
Connor greets them, sitting down beside Oliver.  
“Asher lives in the same house as us,” Oliver tells him. “His parents are ridiculously wealthy, so they managed to get him the only single room on our floor.”  
“And what about you, Wes?” Connor tries to sound confident and initiate conversation with these strangers.  
“I’m a day student,” Wes tells him, and Connor can see he’s embarrassed. “I live in town.”  
“Ah.” Connor just nods. He can tell Wes doesn’t want to discuss it further, which is fine by him.    
He picks at his slice of pizza for a while, listening to the others talk about one of their classes and zoning out a bit.  
“Dude, just ask her out already!” Asher’s loud voice brings him back to attention.  
“Shut up!” Wes is blushing furiously, glaring at Asher. He glances over to a table near the windows, and Connor follows his gaze.  
There’s a boy there, handsome and with an air of arrogance around him. An equally attractive girl is cuddling up to him, pressing a kiss onto his cheek. Sitting across from the couple is another girl with dark hair, her face miserable as she stares down at her food. Connor guesses that’s the girl Wes has a crush on.  
The next time he looks at the other table, the boy is staring back at him. He holds Connor’s gaze and smirks, then winks at him.  
_Very interesting_.


	3. 3

Connor follows the other boys outside after they’re done eating, shooting one last glance at the boy by the window. He’s not looking at Connor anymore, and he’s a bit disappointed by that. They head back to the dorm house, Wes tagging along to hang out for a while before he goes home.  
They decide to hang out in Asher’s room, which happens to be the room Ms. Winterbottom had lingered in front of. Connor wonders if they’re secretly fucking, and if Wes and Oliver know.  
Wes flops down face first onto Asher’s bed as soon as they walk into the room, letting out a load groan. Asher sits down at his desk chair and picks up a notebook, throwing it and hitting Wes on the ass.  
“What the fuck was that for?” Wes raises himself up on his arms and glares at Asher, who just rolls his eyes.  
“Stop moping and just ask Laurel out already.” He looks at Connor. “Wes has been in love with this girl for like a year now, but he won’t even talk to her.”  
“Like she’d even give me the time of day!” Wes argues. “Someone like her wouldn’t date someone like me.”  
“You never know unless you try,” Connor tells him with a shrug.  
Wes just sighs. “Okay, can we change the subject now?”  
Asher reaches under his bed and pulls out a bottle of whiskey and some shot glasses. He pours a shot for each of them, and they throw them back. Connor’s relieved that his roommate and new friends aren’t as straight-laced as he’d assumed them to be.  
They take a few more shots each, then Asher returns the bottle to its hiding spot.  
“So, what do you guys do for fun around here?” Connor asks them.  
The other three boys exchange looks, having a silent conversation like only best friends can have, and finally Asher nods.  
“We go into town on the weekends,” Oliver tells Connor. “Some of the seniors usually rent hotel rooms and throw parties, but it’s kept very quiet and they’re invite only. If you don’t know any seniors to invite you, you can tag along with us.”  
“Cool. And on campus?”  
“Not much to do here, I’m afraid,” Asher chimes in. “Which is why we usually hang out in someone’s room and drink. We’re allowed to use the gym any time we want, if you’re into working out.”  
Connor makes a face. “Nah, I’ll stick with running.”  
They hang out for a while, until Wes notices the time and gets up in a hurry.  
“Shit, it’s past nine. I need to get home.” He leaves without saying goodbye.  
Connor and Oliver head to their own room a few minutes later. Connor doesn’t mean to look, but he can’t help but notice how toned his roommate’s body is as they get ready for bed.

 

-

  
Morning comes way too soon for Connor’s liking. He dresses quickly and runs some gel through his hair, keeping it in place, and he and Oliver head over to the cafeteria before classes start. The hot guy from the night before isn’t there, much to Connor’s disappointment  
“You ready for your first day of classes?” Oliver asks him as they’re clearing away their breakfast trays.  
“Not at all.”  
Oliver laughs. “Let me see your schedule.”  
Connor hands him the piece of paper he’d been given with the information for each of his classes on it, and Oliver grins at him.  
“We have three classes together. You have a couple with Wes and Asher, too.”  
“Cool.” Connor’s relieved he’ll at least have a few familiar faces in his classes.  
“We have English together first period,” Oliver says. “Follow me.”

The classes are small, only ten students in each, and it’s a lot more intimate of a learning environment than Connor is used to. The students are encouraged to speak up more, and Connor thinks it seems like more of a discussion than the teachers just talking at them for an hour. Laurel and the hot boy’s girlfriend, Michaela, are in his government class. He finally learns her name when they’re assigned to a small group together to work on a presentation. He chimes in when asked his opinion, but mostly just sits back quietly and watches the way Laurel looks at Michaela. He wonders if Wes knows the girl he’s in love with is into her best friend.  
He smirks to himself. Things are definitely going to be a lot more interesting here than they were back home, that’s for sure.

 

Connor slips out later that night, after Oliver has gotten in the shower. He wanders around for a while, trying to get better acquainted with the school grounds. He ends up finding an old shed on the outskirts of the football field, and settles down behind it. He pulls out the blunt he’d hidden in his pocket and lights it up. He sighs in relief; it’s been torture not being able to smoke inside like he used to do at home.  
He’s leaning back against the wall, eyes closed, when he hears a twig snap. His eyes fly open as he lowers the blunt, praying he hasn’t just been caught by someone in the administration.  
The hot guy from the cafeteria he’d seen the night before is standing in front of him, smirking again.  
“You in the mood to share?” He asks Connor.  
Connor nods, holding the blunt out. The other boy takes a drag, then sits down beside Connor.  
“So you’re new here, huh.”  
It isn’t a question, but Connor nods anyway.  
“Yeah, today was my first official day.”  
“Welcome to hell,” the boy laughs, taking another drag. “I’m Aiden Walker.”  
“Connor Walsh.”  
“I saw you watching me at dinner yesterday, Connor Walsh.”  
Connor’s glad it’s dark out, so Aiden can’t see him blush.  
“Sorry.”  
“Don’t apologize. You’re interesting to me.” He takes another drag, then finally hands the blunt back to Connor. “You bring anything else with you? Besides the weed?”  
Connor eyes him. “I have some pills back in my room. Xanax and Adderall.”  
Aiden grins. “I think we’re going to be very good friends, Connor.”  
Connor can’t help but smile back at him. Aiden is extremely charismatic, he thinks.  
“I heard an interesting rumor about you,” Aiden tells him, voice feigning indifference.  
“And that is?”  
“That you’re gay. Is it true?”  
Connor stares at him, trying to figure out Aiden’s reason for asking him, or how he even knows in the first place. He’s difficult to read, though, and Connor’s nervous when he answers.  
“Yes.”  
Aiden just nods, not even looking at Connor. He eventually stands to leave, and looks down at him.  
“Come to my room tomorrow night. Bring your pills.”  
“And where is your room, exactly?”  
Aiden pulls out his phone and has Connor put his number in.  
“I’ll text you the details.”  
Connor watches his retreating back disappear into the darkness. He sits for a while longer, then decides he’d better head back to his room before he gets caught.  
He’s just approaching the house when he sees someone sneaking out. He hangs back in the darkness, watching as the person hurries past without seeing him. He’s not very surprised to see that it’s Ms. Winterbottom, confirming his suspicion. He’s impressed; Asher doesn’t seem like the type to be sticking it to an older woman. He’s also glad he knows for sure now, he figures it’s always good to have something he can use as leverage if he ever needs Asher to do anything for him.

  
Oliver is in bed when Connor sneaks back into their room. He changes into his sweatpants and a t-shirt quickly, then jumps into bed. Oliver’s voice just about gives him a heart attack when he speaks.  
“You’d better be careful if you’re going to keep sneaking around like that.”  
“I know how to take care of myself, thanks.”  
“Calm down,” Oliver sounds annoyed. “I’m just saying, you might want to be a bit more discreet. You’re new here, so you don’t know about the curfew crackdown we had last year. The last thing we need is the administration breathing down our necks about curfew again.”  
“What happened last year?”  
“One of the freshman girls went missing. Turns out she’d run off with an older guy she’d met in town, but before that was discovered there were a lot of rumors about something happening to her on campus. Mrs. Keating and the rest of the staff got really paranoid about any more bad publicity for the school, and we got put on a strict curfew for a while.”  
“Hmm.” Connor falls silent, then asks, “What can you tell me about Aiden Walker?”  
“Aiden?” Oliver sounds confused. “Why are you asking about Aiden?”  
“Just curious,” Connor tries to act indifferent.  
“He’s a senior, and he’s kind of an asshole. He’s been dating Michaela Pratt for years, but I don’t know what she sees in him. He cheats on her all the time, everyone knows it, but she seems oblivious.” Connor can hear the bitterness in Oliver’s voice. “His dad is a senator, and Aiden has no problem reminding everyone of how much money and power he has.”  
“You seem to really dislike him.”  
“Yeah, well, he’s not a very nice person.”  
Connor doesn’t respond, and Oliver seems to realize the conversation is over, because he turns to face the wall and falls silent.  
Connor lays awake for a while longer, trying to process all the new information he’s been given. He wonders if there’s more to Oliver’s story concerning Aiden. His roommate definitely seemed a lot more bitter regarding the other boy’s cheating habits than a casual observer should be.


	4. 4

Aiden texts Connor at eight the next night, right when he's starting to think the other boy is blowing him off. Connor sticks two Xanax's in his mouth, and then hurries out before Oliver can ask him where he's going.  
Aiden has a single room on the first floor of the house he's in. He's instructed Connor to knock on the window when he got there, and he'd let him in. The boy who lives in the room across from him tends to be a tattle-tale and he doesn't want him seeing Connor sneaking in.  
Connor raps his knuckles against the window, and Aiden immediately comes into view. He slides the window open and Connor climbs in.  
"What did you bring?" Aiden asks him.  
"Mostly  Adderall. I brought you a few Xanax pills, but my supply is running low, I'll give you some once I get a refill."  
"Whatever." Aiden holds his hand out, and Connor passes him the Xanax and the Adderall pill bottle. He pours some out onto his desk, then hands the bottle back to Connor. He slips one of the Xanax pills into his mouth and dry swallows it.  
Connor's already starting to feel the effects of the Xanax he'd taken, and he sits down on the edge of Aiden's bed. He isn't  entirely  sure why Aiden invited him over, but given what Oliver has told him, he thinks he has a pretty good idea.  
He's proven right when Aiden sits next to him, closer than he should be.  
"You find me attractive, don't you Connor." It's said with the arrogance of someone too cocky to be unsure whether someone wants him or not. "Well I happen to find you attractive too."  
He reaches over and palms Connor through his jeans.  
"You gonna let me fuck you tonight?" Aiden raises an eyebrow.  
If Connor had any morals, he’d tell Aiden to stop. He’d push him away and leave. But he’s drugged up and horny and all he cares about is getting laid. So he  just  nods and undresses, Aiden watching him with a smirk on his face.  
"Nice body."  
"Thanks."  He's starting to feel a little self-conscious, sitting naked beside Aiden, who is still  fully  clothed .  
Aiden tosses him a packet of lube that he pulls from his desk drawer.  
"Open yourself up."  
Connor doesn't argue. He lubes up his fingers and works himself open while Aiden watches, undressing  slowly .  
"Get on your hands and knees."  
"Bossy, aren't you?"  
Aiden ignores him, rolling a condom on and tearing open another packet of lube, slicking himself up . Connor sighs and turns over.  
The sex is impersonal, like it could be anyone Aiden is thrusting into over and over again. Which, Connor supposes, is true. Aiden doesn't seem discriminatory in regards to who he fucks. Aiden comes first, then pulls out of Connor and indicates for him to lay on his back. He slips Connor's aching dick into his mouth, and it isn't long until he's coming too. Aiden wipes his mouth and pulls his sweatpants back on.  
"I'll text you next time I want to see you, okay?"  
"Are you serious?" Connor stares at him. "I'm  just  going to be your booty call when you want drugs and sex?"  
Aiden rolls his eyes. "Oh come on, Walsh. You know I'm dating Michaela, I have to be careful when we hook up."  
"So everything's on your schedule, then?" Connor feels annoyed.  
"Oh, do you not want to hook up with me again?" Aiden gives him a bored look. "Good luck finding anyone else on campus who'll suck your dick besides that loser Hampton."  
Connor sighs. "Fine. Text me."  
He dresses  quickly , then climbs out the window and hurries back to his room.

 

Oliver isn't in the room when Connor gets back, so he uses the opportunity to call his father for the first time.  
"What do you want?" His father's cold voice answers after the fifth ring.  
"Wow, hello to you too." Connor fucking hates his father, but he tries to sound friendly. "I don't want a long conversation, I  just  need you to refill my prescriptions for me. I looked up a pharmacy in town you can have them sent to."  
"Fine, send me the details and I'll have your prescriptions sent over. I'm switching your Adderall to Vyvanse, by the way."  
"What's that?"  
"It's a better alternative, or so I've  been told. I want you to try it before I prescribe it to my patients."  
Connor sighs. "Fine, whatever.  Just  get them sent over as soon as possible."  
"I thought you had new refills last week."  
"I lost them," Connor lies. "Don't know where I put them when I had to pack all my stuff up in such a hurry. You know, when I  was kicked  out of the house without warning. Which was _great_ for my anxiety, by the way, so thanks for that. I hope you don't treat your patients the way you treat your family."  
"My patients are not ungrateful pieces of shit like you." His father sounds furious. "Send me the pharmacy information."  
There's silence, and Connor realizes his father has hung up on him.  
"Yeah, fuck you too, Dad." He spits out, throwing his phone onto his bed in annoyance.  
He hears a cough and looks up in shock. Oliver is standing in the doorway, looking concerned.  
"I didn't realize you'd come back," Connor tells him. "How much of that did you hear?"  
"Enough." He shuts the door and settles down onto his bed. "Are you okay?"  
"Yeah, I'm fine.  Just  hate having to deal with my prick of a father."  
"Why'd you lie and tell him you don't have your prescriptions?" Oliver frowns. "I've seen you take them."  
Connor snorts. "Oh come on, Oliver, you can't be that dense."  
"Don't be an asshole." Oliver glares at him. "And you shouldn't be abusing prescription drugs, Connor. It's  incredibly  dangerous."  
"Thanks for the after school special, but I don't need you to tell me what to do."  
"Whatever. Do what you want, I don't give a shit." Oliver grabs the book that's on his bedside table and opens it, indicating he's done talking.  
Connor rolls his eyes and picks up his phone again. He texts his father the pharmacy information, then gets changed and climbs into his bed. He tries to sleep, but he feels bad for taking his anger out on Oliver, so he finally rolls over to apologize. The other boy has fallen asleep though, his book lying flat against his chest. Connor gets up and takes the book, placing it on the bedside table. He looks down at Oliver, sleeping  peacefully , and he can't help but feel a little tug of fondness for his roommate. He turns Oliver's bedside light off, then makes his way across the dark room and climbs back into his own bed.

 

-

 

 

Before Connor knows it, it's Friday and his first week of classes has ended. He tags along with Asher and Oliver to meet up with Wes in town that evening. Oliver is still annoyed with him, but he doesn't say anything about Connor being there. Connor takes advantage of being in town to pop into the pharmacy and pick up his prescriptions. They sit heavy in his pocket, and he's dying to take some. He listens to the others argue over where to eat, and they end up at some shitty diner. It's completely run down, but the food is amazing and it's filled with kids from their school.  
Aiden and Michaela are in a corner booth, all over each other. Laurel is sitting across from them, looking upset again.  Connor feels sorry for her, he knows it can't be very fun to watch the person you're in love with cozying up with someone else .  
He's listening to the other boys talking about going to see a movie when he sees Laurel leaving by herself. He has a rare moment of compassion and excuses himself, telling the boys he's tired and is going back to campus. He leaves enough cash to cover his meal, then hurries outside to see Laurel turning a corner at the end of the street. She's walking fast,  clearly  upset. He runs after her, and she spins around when she hears his footsteps.  
"What do you want?"  
Connor shrugs, trying to catch his breath. " Just  wanted to see if you're okay."  
"Why wouldn't I be?"  
Connor looks at her, tilting his head to the side. He debates if it's worth saying what he's thinking but decides to go ahead. The worst that can happen is he's wrong and Laurel thinks he's an idiot. People have thought worse things about him. " Maybe  because the girl you want to be with is with someone else?"  
She pales, and Connor knows he's gotten it right. "How do you know?"  
"I'm  just  observant, is all." He notices the tears in her eyes, and nudges her. "Hey, you want to go hang out somewhere? I have something to help you feel better."  
She looks intrigued. "And that is?"  
He pulls out his bottle of Xanax, shaking it in front of her face.  
"Let's go." She grabs his hand and tugs him down the street, in the opposite direction of their school.  
"Where are we going?"  
"Just  follow me."  
She leads him to a barn that's hidden by overgrown plants on the end of a field that belongs to a nearby farm.  
"Sometimes we sneak out of school and hang out here," she tells him. "They never use this barn anymore, so it doesn't bother anyone."  
She grabs a blanket from a pile on the ground and spreads it over a bale of hay, then sits down cross-legged on it. Connor does the same, and hands two Xanax to Laurel. He takes two for himself as well, then puts the bottle back into his jacket pocket.  
"You want to talk about it?" He asks her.  
"Not  really  ." She falls silent for a moment, then starts speaking again. "It sucks, you know? He treats her like shit and she  just ...lets him. And I want to scream at her to open her fucking eyes and see what's right in front of her, but I can't."  
"Unrequited feelings suck." Connor looks at her. "Do you ever think that there might be someone whose be feeling that same way about you?" He sees the suspicious look on Laurel's face and  hurriedly  adds, "It's not me. I'm one hundred percent gay."  
"Then who is it?" She furrows her brow as she tries to think.  
"I'm not going to tell you," he laughs. "But when you feel sad,  just  know there's someone who feels the same way about you that you feel about Michaela."  
They fall into a comfortable silence. Connor picks at pieces of hay while Laurel lays back and stares at the broken roof. There's a hole big enough to see the night sky, and the stars are out in full force.  
He doesn't know why he says it, it's like the words  just  slip out of his mouth before he can stop himself.  
"I had sex with Aiden," he confesses to her.  
She sits up and looks at him, expression unreadable. "You what?"  
"The other night. He wanted some of my pills and I ended up letting him screw me."  
Laurel climbs off the hay bale, her eyes shooting daggers at Connor.  
"You hooked up with someone you knew had a girlfriend? Jesus, Connor. I may not like the guy, but it would kill Michaela if she knew." She starts walking towards the doorway, then turns around and glares at him again. "You're a fucking asshole, you know that?"  
Connor  just  nods. "I've been told that a lot lately."   
And then Laurel is gone. He sighs and lays back down on the hay. He'd thought they were bonding, that they might even become friends, but he's gone and fucked that up.  
He doesn't know how long he stays there for, but when he leaves it's pitch black and he has to use his cellphone as a light to guide him back .  
Oliver isn't in their room, and Connor  is relieved . He feels like shit, and the last thing he wants to do is deal with his roommate asking him questions.


	5. 5

The next few weeks pass slowly, a blur of classes and secret hookups with Aiden. Laurel shoots daggers at him every time they make eye contact, but Michaela is still friendly towards him, so she’s clearly kept her mouth shut regarding Connor’s confession. He finds himself actually starting to like Michaela, and he feels guilty about sleeping with her boyfriend, but not enough to stop. He’s a terrible person, he knows, but he numbs himself with his medication and tries not to care.  
He’s procrastinated working on a paper for his English class until the night before it’s due, so he takes extra Vyvanse to help him pull an all-nighter to write it. He feels hyper, knows he’s getting on Oliver’s nerves with his loud talking and clattering his stuff around on his desk.  
“Would you be quiet?” Oliver snaps at him. “It’s past ten o’clock and I’m trying to go to bed.”  
“Sorry.”   
It isn’t long before Connor’s being loud again, and Oliver sits up, glaring at him.  
“Connor! Shut up!”  
“I need to get my paper done, Oliver.” Connor tells him. “Would you like a Xanax to help you chill the fuck out?”  
Oliver throws a pillow at him, but it misses and hits his glass of water, sending it shattering to the floor.  
“What the fuck??” Connor yells, maybe a little too loud, because the next thing they know, the senior assigned as their house-leader bursts into the room.  
“What the hell is going on in here? I could hear you from my room down the hall!”  
“Sorry, Frank.” Oliver glares at Connor. “My roommate is being an obnoxious asshole.”  
“I’m not the one who fucking threw something and broke a glass,” Connor argues.   
Frank glares at them both. “This is ridiculous. I’m reporting this to Mrs. Keating, and both of you will be staying on campus this weekend. Maybe you idiots will learn how to grow the fuck up and get along.”  
He leaves, the door slamming shut behind him.  
Connor looks over at Oliver. “Oops.”  
His roommate just shakes his head, looking more annoyed than Connor’s ever seen him before. “Thanks a lot, Connor. I had plans this weekend that are now ruined because of you.”  
“Sorry.” Connor picks up his laptop. “I’ll go sit in the bathroom and work on this so you can sleep.”  
He settles down on the cold bathroom floor, his back against the wall, and shuts his eyes. He’s gone and really pissed Oliver off now, which he hadn’t meant to do.   
“Why the fuck are you like this, Walsh,” he mumbles to himself. “Fucking idiot.”  
He knows why, though. It’s easier for him to keep everyone at a distance, pushing them away, because he can’t handle caring about someone only to have them give up on him. If even his own fucking family don’t care about him, how could he ever expect anyone else to?

 

He doesn’t sleep all night and takes another Vyvanse in the morning to keep himself alert for classes. Oliver is pissed at him, and when Asher and Wes find out that Oliver can’t join them at Asher’s family home that weekend, they get annoyed with him too.  
Connor had been eating all his meals with them, but now he thinks they probably don’t want him around. He doesn’t want to eat sitting by himself in the cafeteria, so he starts taking his food outside and eating behind the building, out of view of anyone walking by. It’s starting to get colder, and he spends his meals fucking freezing, but he’d rather endure the cold than the stares of his classmates. The only person he talks to outside of classes is Aiden, and even then he only texts Connor to sneak over once all week.  
The weekend comes, and Aiden’s gone with Michaela to visit her parents. Connor feels like he’s going crazy. He and Oliver are the only two left on campus, thanks to him, and there isn’t much to do. It snows off and on all weekend, making it too cold to go outside.   
He can tell he’s getting on Oliver’s nerves, so he tries to avoid talking to him as much as possible. The weekend drags on, and by Sunday night he’s so damn bored he ends up taking an extra Vyvanse pill, just because. He ends up laying on his bed, drumming his hands on his laptop out of boredom.  
“Would you fucking stop?” Oliver snaps, looking up from his homework. “I’m trying to study here.”  
“What’s the big deal?” Connor shrugs. He still feels jittery from the pills. He probably overdid it. He knows he’s a fucking idiot.   
“The “Big Deal”,” Oliver uses his fingers as air quotes, “is that all you do is either mope around acting like a victim and no one likes you, when **you’re** the one whose pushing everyone away, or you take those pills of yours and stay up half the night fucking around and distracting me. It’s impossible to study with you here!”  
“I’m not that bad.” He knows he is, but he tries to defend himself anyway. “Stop exaggerating. And besides, it’s been so boring being stuck here all weekend, don’t you agree?”  
“Jesus Christ, Connor! You’re the most self-centered person I’ve ever met. The only reason we had to stay here all weekend is because you don’t know how to fucking behave. I know you don’t give a shit about studying, but I do! Not everyone has the privilege of Mommy and Daddy paying for us to attend here. Some of us fucking need to keep our grades up to keep our scholarships!” Connor doesn’t think he’s ever seen Oliver this angry. It’s kind of hot, he thinks. He’s so fucked up.   
Oliver isn’t done yet, though.  
“Believe it or not, I actually _want_ to be here. I’m not like you, just wasting your time here because you don’t care about anything, and even your own parents are sick of putting up with your bullshit and don’t want you around.”   
Connor freezes, his retort frozen on his tongue. Oliver’s words feel like a knife in his heart; he’s _devastated_ , and his face must reflect that, because suddenly Oliver is trying to apologize to him.  
“Connor, I didn’t-“  
“It’s fine.” He moves to grab his jacket, and Oliver stands up from his desk, reaching out to touch his arm.  
“It’s not. I didn’t mean it,” Oliver says desperately. “I just got angry and lashed out. You know it’s not true.”  
“It is, though.” Connor shrugs him off, pulling his jacket on as he opens the door. He pauses in the doorway, looking back at Oliver briefly. “I'm really sorry I’m such a nightmare to live with.”  
“Connor wait-“ Oliver tries again, but Connor shuts the door and hurries down the hallway towards the stairs. He pulls out his phone, shooting off a text to Aiden.  
**You back yet?**  
Aiden responds almost immediately, just a thumbs up emoji. The air is freezing as he hurries outside, and he wraps his arms around himself as he makes his way over to Aiden’s room. Oliver’s words are echoing in his head, and he feels tears springing to his eyes. He groans and wipes them away in frustration. Everything Oliver said were things he’d thought to himself before, but it hurts more, hearing it from someone else. 

\--

  
  
Aiden is sprawled on his bed when Connor slips into his room, shutting the door quietly behind him. His eyes narrow as he looks at Connor, clearly annoyed that he came in through the front door instead of his window.   
“No one saw you come in, did they?”  
“’Course not.” He can’t mask his annoyance. “I’m not a fucking idiot, thanks.”  
He makes his way over to the bed, kicking off his shoes and letting his jacket fall onto the floor. Aiden doesn’t move, so he takes a seat at the foot of the bed, resting his back against the wall and stretching his legs out in front of him.  
They sit in silence for a minute, then Aiden kicks him.  
“Did you bring anything?”  
“In the left pocket.” He indicates towards his jacket on the floor. “Vyvanse this time. Designer Adderall, according to my dad.”   
 Aiden stares at him for a moment, then rolls his eyes and climbs off the bed, making sure to kick Connor a little bit harder as he goes.  
He watches as Aiden pulls out the bottle, opening it and pouring out more than half the pills into a zip-lock bag.  
“I can’t keep telling my dad I lost my pills,” Connor protests. “He’s not gonna just keep refilling them twice as often as he should.”  
Aiden ignores him, tucking the bag of pills into his desk drawer. He takes a couple from Connor’s bottle, slipping them into his mouth. He holds the bottle out and Connor just sighs, shaking his head.  
“I took too many already.”  
Aiden doesn’t even respond, just closes the bottle and tosses it onto the floor.  
He hates the way he lets Aiden treat him like shit. He knows he’s pathetic. But he’s sad, and lonely, and at least with Aiden he’s able to get off.  
He waits for the pills to take effect, for Aiden to pretend that it’s the drugs that make him reach for Connor.   
Aiden never wants to see his face when they’re fucking. Which is fine by Connor, he’s just here to get laid, not make out and whisper sweet nothings to each other as they screw. Aiden’s rougher than normal, but Connor takes it, just desperate for anything to take his mind off where it wants to wander. He doesn’t want to think about anything.  
Connor’s still trying to catch his breath afterwards when Aiden starts complaining that he didn’t bring more Xanax, too. He can’t help the incredulous look on his face when he rolls over to stare at the older boy.  
“You took half my Vyvanse, asshole. I’m not giving you my Xanax too.”  
Aiden just snorts in response, like he doesn’t take what Connor says seriously. “Just bring the fucking Xanax next time, okay? And more of this Vyvanse stuff.”  
“Fuck off, I’m not joking. I can’t keep giving you half of the bottle every time.”  
“Get out of my bed.” Aiden’s voice is colder than Connor’s ever heard it before.  
“Seriously?”  
“Yeah, seriously. I’m fucking tired of you and your bitchiness, and if you’re not going to keep giving me pills there’s no point in keeping you around, is there?”  
He picks his phone up off the bedside table and is already texting someone in the time it takes Connor to get off the bed and pull on his clothes.  
Aiden’s not paying any attention to him as he leaves, so he grabs one of the bottles of whiskey he’s seen hidden beneath the bed and hides it inside the jacket bundled up in his arms.   
“Fuck you, Aiden. Fuck you.” He spits angrily.  
He storms out, and this time he doesn’t take any care to make sure no one sees him as he goes. He doesn’t care if Aiden gets mad at him. He knows he won’t be going back there, anyway.  
It’s started snowing again, and he makes his way over to the football field. It’s dark and fucking freezing as he takes a seat at the top of the stands, but he doesn’t care because he has an entire bottle of whiskey to keep him warm. He knows he shouldn’t mix the Vyvanse with alcohol, but he doesn’t care about that either. He doesn’t care about anything anymore. And there, in the freezing darkness, he finally lets himself break down. He pulls his legs up and wraps his arms around them, burying his face into his knees as he cries. His entire body is shaking, and he’s so thankful that it’s too cold out for anyone else to be sneaking around the football field. He couldn’t hold in his loud sobbing if he tried. He’s never felt more alone in his life. He’s alienated everyone around him, and he doesn’t remember the last time he went more than a day without taking some form of stimulant. He’s a fucking mess, and he knows it.

 

Oliver’s awake when Connor sneaks back into their room a few hours later. He’s in his bed, and the lights off, but there’s enough moonlight coming in through the window that Connor can see his eyes are open.  
“Connor, I’m s-“   
“I don’t care, Oliver. It’s fine.” Connor hisses, cutting him off. He stumbles across the dark room and trips over something on floor, which sends him sprawling across Oliver’s bed. “Fuck!”  
“Be quiet!” Oliver clamps his hand over Connor’s mouth. “I will not get in trouble again because you’re unable to keep your mouth shut!”  
“Sorry,” Connor whispers exaggeratedly, and Oliver frowns.  
“Are you drunk?”  
Connor shrugs, pushing himself off the bed and heading to his own bed on the other side of the room. He’s too exhausted to bother changing into his pajamas, so he just strips down to his briefs and collapses on top of his soft comforter.  
“What do you care?”  
“I didn’t mean what I said earlier, you have to believe me,” Oliver pleads. ”I feel terrible.”  
“Of course you meant what you said,” Connor hopes the other boy can’t hear the sorrow in his voice, he’s too drunk to put on his usual façade of being indifferent. “It’s the truth. I’m a shitty roommate, a shitty son, and fuck, let’s be honest - I’m probably just an all-around shitty human being. I’ll try not to spend as much time in here in future, give you a break from having to deal with me.”  
Oliver is silent, and Connor rolls over to stare at the wall, hiding his tears from the other boy.

\--

 

He’s alone when he wakes up, but there’s a bottle of water and an Advil sitting on his bedside table, which he takes gratefully. He takes a Xanax too, and lays back down, shutting his eyes.   
He’s woken up again by the sound of the door closing.   
“I brought you something back from breakfast,” Oliver hands him a plate filled with scrambled eggs and a pile of greasy bacon. “Figured you’d need some hangover food.”  
“Thanks.” Connor gives him a weak smile, feeling his face growing hot. “Sorry about last night.”  
“No, I’m the one who’s sorry.” Oliver’s warm brown eyes meet his, and Connor’s startled by the sincerity in them. “I got mad and I said things that I didn’t mean. I swear I didn’t mean any of it. I feel terrible that I hurt you.”  
“It’s fine, really.”  
“Okay.” Oliver scratches the back of his head, looking down awkwardly. “Do you want me to tell them you’re sick today and need to be excused from classes? I have a free period after lunch so I can bring you back something to eat then, too.”  
“Would you?” Connor says between bites. “That would be amazing, thanks.”  
“Of course.”  
Oliver leaves Connor to finish his meal in peace. He lays down again afterwards, grabbing his laptop and searching for something to watch. He knows Oliver is only being this nice to him out of guilt, but he doesn’t remember the last time anyone cared about his wellbeing, and it feels nice to have someone fussing over him, no matter how embarrassed he is over last night.   
He’s watched more episodes of Melrose Place than he cares to admit by the time Oliver arrives with his lunch. He pauses the show and sits up.  
“Egg salad sandwiches today. Sorry.”  
“It’s fine. Thanks,” Connor takes the sandwich gratefully.  
Oliver sits down on his bed across from him. “I, uh, I took the afternoon off from classes. I told them I was coming down with the same thing you have.”  
Connor stops chewing and looks at him, confused. “Why would you do that?”  
“Because we need to talk.”  
“I don’t need an intervention, Oliver.”  
“No, this isn’t…I don’t mean about the pills. After you left last night, I realized that we’ve been living together for a few months now, but we don’t really know each other. I want to change that. I want to know you.”  
“Know me?” Connor scoffs. “No one ever knows anyone.”  
Oliver looks pained. “That’s not true. If you let your guard down, you’d find that there are people who’d be willing to care about you, if you just let them.”  
“What, like you?”  
“Yeah, like me. And Asher, and Wes, too. We’d all be your friends, Connor. Your real friends, not just people who use you.”  
The “like Aiden” goes unsaid. And Oliver is so damn sincere that Connor can’t bring himself to warn him he isn’t worth being friends with. He just nods instead.  
“Okay.”  
“Yeah?” Oliver grins. Connor desperately wants to change the topic of conversation.  
“You wanna watch something with me?” He scoots over, making space for the other boy to sit beside him.  
“Sure.” Oliver settles down next to him, then takes in the scene that Connor had paused the show on. “Um, are you really watching Melrose Place right now?”  
“Don’t judge me, I used to watch it with my sister when I was a kid. Jake Hansen was my first crush.”  
“He was my first crush too! I’m not even joking.” Oliver confesses. “Well, him and Jordan from My So-Called Life. I have a thing for brooding bad boys, apparently.”  
He lays down beside Connor to watch the show with him, the entire length of their bodies touching.   
Connor is unable to pay attention anymore, too hyper aware of both his need for another Xanax and the feeling of Oliver’s body pressed beside his in the single bed they’re sharing. He let his guard down with Oliver, let him see past the façade he usually hides behind. And even after that, Oliver still wants to know him. He can’t wrap his head around that. And then there was Oliver’s comment about his type. Was he implying he was into Connor? He realizes how stupid he’s being as soon as the thought crosses his mind. Of course Oliver isn’t interested in him, he knows too much about him, knows what Connor really thinks about himself. Someone like Oliver would never want someone like him.  
He can’t take it anymore, so he reaches under his pillow for the bottle he knows is stashed there, and swallows a pill without thinking twice about doing so. Oliver stays quiet, but Connor can tell he’s trying not to say something.  
“Look,” he decides to break the tension before it gets too thick. “I’ll try to cut back on the pills, okay? But I’m not going to give them up completely.”  
“You don’t have to lie just to appease me.” Oliver tells him. “You know how I feel about the pills, but my friendship doesn’t depend on whether you give them up or not.”  
“So you’re not just trying to save me?”  
Oliver laughs. “No, I’m just genuinely trying to be your friend.”  
Connor can’t think of a response, so he just nods. He lays back down to watch the show, but his mind is racing. Oliver has to have an ulterior motive, as much as he denies it, and Connor’s unsure of how to tread around his roommate now. Part of him longs to take Oliver’s words at face value; it’s been so long since he’s had a real friend. But a larger part of him can’t forget the last three and a half years, can’t erase the fear that feels like it’s suffocating him at times.  



	6. 6

Oliver makes Connor eat dinner with the boys that night. He’s clearly already filled them in on what went down between them, because both Asher and Wes are overly friendly to him, acting like Connor had never left their group. He feels embarrassed, but he forces himself to join in the conversation.  
He knows that he needs to find Laurel and make things right with her, too. He manages to track her down in the library the next afternoon, and he ignores the glare she gives him as he sits down across the table from her.  
“Don’t say anything, just listen to me, okay?”  
She frowns but stays silent.  
“Okay, first of all, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I was such a fucking asshole, and that I hooked up with a guy I knew had a girlfriend. I’m sorry for telling you and putting you in that awful position of having to keep a secret from your best friend.” He takes a deep breath. “And I’m sorry that I fucked things up between us, because I really did enjoy hanging out with you, and I was hoping we could be friends?”  
“Are you still hooking up with Aiden?” She’s still glaring at him.  
He shakes his head. “No, that’s over with.”  
She stares at him for a while, then finally relents. “One more chance. That’s it.”  
Connor grins. “Good. I’ll let you get back to your studying, then.”   
He gets up to leave, but Laurel stops him.  
“Wait.” She looks embarrassed. “You said that someone likes me. I’ve been thinking about it and paying more attention to everyone, and I think I’ve figured it out.”  
Connor raises an eyebrow, waiting.  
“I think I know who it is,” she adds, “And if I’m right, well…I wouldn’t mind getting to know him better. I know it’s never going to happen with Michaela, so I may as well start moving on.”  
“And who do you think it is?”  
“It’s Asher, right?”  
“Asher?” Connor can’t hold back his laugh. “Sorry, it’s not him.”  
“It’s not?” She looks confused. “But he’s always looking at me and whispering to his friends.”  
Connor just looks at her, and realization dawns in her eyes.  
“It’s one of his friends, isn’t it?”  
He nods, staying silent.  
“Is it Wes?” She’s starting to look hopeful. “Please say it’s Wes. I’ve always thought he was cute.”  
“Weren’t you just telling me you wanted to get with Asher?”  
“Well, no offense to Asher, he’s a nice guy, but I was really just saying that because I thought he liked me.”  Her face is turning red, Connor notices. “But Wes…I could actually see myself dating him for real. Like, as more than a distraction from Michaela.”  
“Just don’t lead him on, okay?” Connor implores her. “He really likes you, and it wouldn’t be fair to him. And, for the love of God, _please_ don’t let him know that I told you about his crush. He’d kill me.”  
She laughs. “I won’t, I swear.”  
  
Laurel ends up joining them at dinner that night. The boys are already sitting at their table, and she’s walking past to where Michaela and Aiden are, when she suddenly turns around and walks up to them.  
“Can I sit with you guys?”  
“Of course.” Connor smiles at her. He tries not to laugh at how wide Wes’ eyes have gotten.  
Laurel takes the empty seat beside Oliver, directly across the table from Wes. Connor is sitting on Oliver’s other side, and Oliver nudges his leg under the table.  
“Did you have something to do with this?” He whispers when the other three are engrossed in a conversation about some superhero movie Connor’s never seen. Connor winks at him, and Oliver just shakes his head, suppressing a laugh.  
Connor sits back, watching his friends talking and laughing, and for the first time in forever he feels relaxed and content, and it’s not just the Xanax he’d taken earlier that’s making him feel that way.

  
He and Oliver head back to their room shortly after they’re done eating, leaving Wes and Laurel to their flirting. Asher’s already disappeared, saying he’s going to study, but Connor can’t see any hint of light under his door as he and Oliver pass it on their way to their room. He wonders how Oliver and Wes are so oblivious to what he’s up to with Ms. Winterbottom, but he doesn’t say anything to Oliver. Telling Laurel about Wes’ crush to set them up is one thing, exposing an affair that could result in those people getting fired or expelled is something Connor would never do.   
They both get ready for bed, even though it’s still relatively early, and then curl up on Oliver’s bed to watch more episodes of Melrose Place. They’re halfway through the second episode when Connor finds himself needing to confide in his roommate.  
“Hey Ollie?”  
“Yeah?”  
“I just wanted to say thanks, for being there for me. For giving me a second chance.” He runs a hand through his hair, suddenly feeling shy. “It really means a lot.”  
Oliver smiles at him. “You don’t need to thank me for that.”  
“I do though,” Connor argues. “I know I’ve been insufferable since I got here. And I’m sorry I made being here so unpleasant for you, when all you tried to do at the beginning was just be my friend. I just…I tend to always destroy anything good in my life.”  
Oliver rolls onto his side to face Connor. “What do you mean?”  
Connor takes a deep breath, silently cursing at himself for starting this conversation. He’s already started opening up, though, so he can’t stop now.  
“They’re for anxiety and ADHD.” He blurts it out nervously. “The pills I take, the Xanax and the Vyvanse. I was prescribed them to help me cope a few years ago and then one day I just felt like I needed a little bit more help than normal. So I took more pills than I usually would. I thought I could handle it, just a few times.” He gives a short laugh. “Guess I fucked that one up, didn’t I.”  
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you confuse me,” Oliver tells him. “You’re like a walking dichotomy, somehow able to be arrogant and overtly confident while also having extreme anxiety and low self-esteem.”  
Connor bites his lower lip, feeling self-conscious. “I’m only really confident when it comes to flirting and hooking up. It’s the one thing I know I’m good at. The rest of me isn’t all that great.”  
“Don’t say that about yourself.”  
“It’s true, though.” Connor shrugs. “Even my own family don’t think I’m a decent person. That’s why I got so upset by what you said the other night, Ollie. Because it’s true. They don’t want me around.”  
Oliver looks pained. “God, I’m so sorry I said that to you.”  
“It’s fine, really.” Connor tries to reassure him.  
“It’s not, though.” Oliver tells him. “And I still feel like shit for hurting you like that.”  
“Please don’t. I was being an obnoxious asshole, and you didn’t know about my family. I don’t blame you for yelling at me.”  
“I think we’ll just have to agree to disagree on that.”  
They fall silent and go back to watching the show. They’re partway through the next episode when Oliver suddenly starts laughing.  
“You okay?”  
“Yeah,” Oliver tries to stop laughing, but isn’t very successful. “I just can’t stop thinking about the look on Wes’ face when Laurel sat next to him. How did you pull that one off?”  
Connor just smiles at him innocently. “I have my ways.”  
Oliver shakes his head at him, but he’s still smiling.  
  
  
They start spending all their free time together. Oliver is just so easy to talk to, now that they’ve cleared the air between them, and Connor is so thankful that he’s finally found a real friend. Wes and Laurel are spending more time together, too, which results in their friendship circle expanding. Michaela joins them for meals occasionally, and Connor can’t help but feel guilty. He really likes her, is the thing, and he feels like shit for having willingly hooked up with her boyfriend multiple times.   
Aiden is clearly annoyed by them hanging out, if the glares he shoots Connor’s way when he sees Michaela sitting with the boys and Laurel is any indication. Connor just gives him the finger while no one else is looking, then goes back to ignoring him. Aiden isn’t worth his time anymore.  


They get word of a party being hosted by some of the seniors at one of the hotels in town that Saturday night. They’ve been there for maybe an hour when an older guy Connor’s never seen shows up. He immediately zeros in on Oliver and heads over to their group.  
“Ollie!” Strange Boy calls out, and Oliver’s head snaps around.  
“Thomas? What are you doing here?” Oliver looks surprised to see him.  
“I was in town, heard you’d be here so I figured I’d stop by and say hi.”  
“It’s great to see you again!” Oliver grins, then motions towards Connor. “This is my roommate, Connor.”  
Thomas eyes Connor, then turns his attention back to Oliver. He places an arm around Oliver’s shoulders and guides him across the room, talking animatedly about something Connor thinks must be an inside joke. Connor rolls his eyes, irritated with Thomas’s obvious disdain towards him.  
He’s annoyed, so he grabs a beer from the fridge, then leans against the wall and watches everyone else having fun. Thomas is monopolizing all of Oliver’s time, and Connor can’t help the jealousy that’s taking hold of him. He doesn’t understand why he’s feeling this way, but it eats at him until he can’t stand to be around them anymore. He announces to no one that he’s going outside to smoke; Wes and Laurel are busy making out on the couch, Asher is playing beer pong with Michaela and some other people from their school, and Oliver is too engrossed in whatever bullshit Thomas is going on about to notice him. No one else at the party gives a shit about Connor. He slips outside and stands there in the cold for a while, then walks back to campus by himself without saying goodbye to anyone.   
He takes three Xanax pills when he gets back. It’s more than he’s taken in a while, since he’s been trying to only take one a day for Oliver’s sake. _But Oliver’s not here_ , Connor thinks bitterly. He’s all over that pretentious asshole Thomas, so Connor can take as many pills as he wants to without feeling guilty.   
He hates being jealous like this. Oliver is allowed to have other friends, he knows this, but there’s something about Thomas that just rubs Connor the wrong way.   
He's lying on his bed sulking when Oliver stumbles into the room, clearly drunk.  
“Connor!” His face lights up when he sees him. “You disappeared from the party.”  
“Yeah,” Connor shrugs. “I felt like being alone.”  
Oliver frowns. “But you didn’t even tell me you were leaving.”  
“You were busy, I didn’t think you’d want me to interrupt you.”  
“Don’t be stupid.” Oliver collapses next to Connor on his bed. “I would’ve walked home with you.”  
“Yeah?” Connor looks at him. “What about Thomas?”  
“Who cares about Thomas?” Oliver waves a hand in the air. “You’re my best friend, not him.”  
Connor feels uncharacteristically emotional over Oliver’s statement, and he’s glad that the other boy is too drunk to notice. He needs to busy himself, so he gets off the bed and heads into the bathroom, filling up a glass with water for Oliver.  
“Here, have this.” He hands the glass to Oliver. “How much did you drink tonight?”  
“I don’t remember.” Oliver gulps down the water, and Connor takes the glass and sets it on the bedside table. “Too much? I’m definitely going to feel sick tomorrow.”  
Connor laughs. “Poor baby. I’ll look after you.”  
Oliver grins dopily at him. “You’re my favorite.”  
“Likewise,” Connor tells him, his voice catching slightly. He lays back down beside Oliver again, and tries to ignore the way his heart flutters when Oliver snuggles up close to him.  
_He’s just drunk_ , he tells himself. There’s no point in reading into anything Oliver says or does while he’s like this.

 

Time flies by, and before Connor knows it, it’s Christmas break. He dreads going home, dreads having to see his family for the first time in months. He’s also not looking forward to not having Oliver to talk to every day.  
“What am I going to do without you?” He whines, throwing himself dramatically onto Oliver’s bed.  
“It’s only two weeks, Connor.”  
“Yeah, but I hate my family. It’s going to be hell.”  
“I doubt it’s that bad,” Oliver rolls his eyes. “But I’ll call you every day, if that makes you feel better.”  
It is that bad, but Connor doesn’t argue. “Promise?”  
“I promise.”  
  
Oliver stays true to his word, calling Connor and texting him every day. Connor knew he and Oliver were getting close, but it hits him one morning, just how much he _misses_ Oliver. It’s more than he should miss a friend, he thinks, but he doesn’t really want to think about what that means.  
He spends his days locked in his room, trying to avoid his parents as much as possible when they’re home. His sister has stayed in London for the holidays, so he doesn’t even have her there as a buffer between him and his parents.   
Christmas is a non-event; his parents didn’t bother to get him anything, and he sure as hell didn’t want to spend a dime on them. They call Gemma on Skype, to wish her a happy holiday, and the conversation is awkward as hell. He and his sister have never been particularly close, their age difference made it difficult for them to really bond much when they were younger, and by the time Connor was a teenager, Gemma was already out of the house. He stays downstairs long enough for his parents to find acceptable, then slips away while Gemma is telling his parents about her new boyfriend. He goes back to his room and grabs his phone, then snaps a picture of himself pouting, and sends it to Oliver with the caption, _I’m sooo bored. Kill me kill me kill me.  
_ Oliver calls him a few hours later.  
“Sorry, I left my phone at home when we went to my aunt’s house. Are you okay?”  
“Yeah, just sick of being in this fucking house.”  
“I’m sorry.”  
“Not your fault. It’s just an extra-lonely Christmas for me.” He sighs. “My parents used to at least pretend to be okay with my company during the holidays, but this year is different. I guess they’ve finally given up on faking it. They don’t speak to me, or even acknowledge me, unless they absolutely have to.”  
“I’m sorry,” Oliver says again, sounding sadder this time.  
“Stop apologizing, Ollie. It’s not your fault my family is fucked up. Now, tell me about your Christmas. I want to hear every tiny detail. Let me live vicariously through you.”  
Oliver laughs. “If you insist.”  
He starts telling Connor about how his family spent their day, and Connor closes his eyes. He’s missed listening to Oliver ramble on.  
The next week passes by slowly, each day dragging on and seeming longer than the last. Connor spends his days taking as many pills as possible, he knows he’d promised Oliver that he’d stop, but he feels like shit and it’s the only thing that gets his mind off how lonely he is. He’s flat out depressed by the time New Year’s Eve rolls around. His parents are throwing their annual party, and he’s locked himself away in his bedroom with a bottle of wine he stole from their party supply.  
He sends Oliver a text wishing him a happy new year, figuring he’d be at a party or something, but Oliver texts back, telling him he’s feeling sick and that he’s been left at home by himself.  
Connor calls him immediately, relieved to have someone to talk to.  
Oliver’s voice is gruffer than usual when he answers, and his nose must be blocked because Connor can hear him breathing through his mouth.  
“Ollie, don’t take this the wrong way, but you sound like you’re a forty year old trucker named Bubba doing me in the dirty bathroom of a rest stop.”  
Oliver laughs, which immediately turns into a raspy cough.  
“Oh my god, Connor, how would you know what forty year old truck driver sounds like during sex?”  
“I don’t.” Connor shrugs, even though Oliver can’t see him. “I just imagine your voice is what one would sound like.”  
“You’re so weird.”  
“Mmm, I like when you talk dirty to me, Bubba.”  
“Shut up.” Oliver laughs again.  
“Sorry, I’ll stop now.”  
“So, what are you up to tonight?” Oliver asks him.  
“I’ve locked myself away in my room, as per usual here at the Walsh residence.” He sighs. “My parents are throwing a party and all their pretentious as fuck friends are here.”  
“I wish I was there,” Oliver says quietly.  
“Nah, you don’t want to be here. I wish we were somewhere else. Like New York.” Connor huffs out. “I’ve always wanted to go to New York.”  
“You’ve never been?” Oliver sounds surprised. “My brother lives in Brooklyn. We should go visit him sometime.”  
“Already wanting me to meet the family, Hampton? I think you’re moving a little too fast here.” Connor teases him.  
“Shut up.” Oliver laughs. “But seriously, if you ever want to go, just say the word.”  
“Can we go right now?” He’s only half joking.  
“I wish.”  
They start talking about their hypothetical trip to the city, making plans that Connor is scared to allow himself to look forward to. He knows Oliver is his friend, that he genuinely cares about him, but he’s still afraid of being abandoned again.  
Connor doesn’t realize how long they’ve been on the phone until he hears the guests downstairs begin their countdown. He can hear a tinny echo of it through the phone, coming from Oliver’s tv. They both fall silent, listening to the cheers that erupt as the clock strikes midnight. He hears Oliver exhale slowly.  
“Happy New Year, Connor.”  
“Happy New Year, Ollie. There’s no one else I’d rather have rung it in with.”  
“Same here,” Oliver’s voice sounds wistful. “Maybe next year we can spend it together? Go to Times Square?”  
Connor’s heart skips a beat. “Yeah, that’d be nice.”  
They go silent again, and Connor blames it on the wine he’s had, because he can’t help the words that start coming out of his mouth.  
“I miss you, Ollie. Like, more than I should, I think.” He hears Oliver’s sharp intake of breath, but he keeps talking. “I’ve been so lonely for so long. And then I met you, and I feel like I finally have someone who gives a shit about me.”  
“Of course I give a shit about you,” Oliver tells him earnestly. “I care about you _so much_ , Connor.”  
Connor suddenly feels like crying. He’s definitely drunker than he thought he was.  
“I care about you too, Ollie.”  
They both start yawning, and their conversation dwindles as they become drowsier. Neither one of them ends the call, though, and the next morning Connor wakes up to find his phone lying beside him on the pillow, battery completely dead.


	7. 7

Everything changes after that phone call.

  
The new semester starts, and their lives go on as they did before the break, but everything feels different. Connor finds himself being so aware of everything Oliver does, like he’s seeing all his idiosyncrasies for the first time, and he’s so, so damn _fond_ of him. He catches the other boy watching him, too, lingering glances when he thinks Connor isn’t paying attention. He wonders if this is something new for Oliver as well, or if he’s always looked at Connor that way but he’s just been too blind to notice it.   
Michaela and Aiden broke up over the Christmas break, so both she and Laurel spend all their time with the group. Most nights they all sneak out to the barn Laurel had taken Connor to all those months ago, running through the darkened fields and hiding from the school’s security guard, Nate, while he patrols the grounds. Wes usually meets them at the barn, since it’s a close walk from his house. It’s still cold enough out that they’re able to store beer and wine in the barn, and they sit in a tight circle, wrapped up in blankets and using each other’s body heat to keep warm while they drink and talk. Wes and Laurel are officially a couple now, and Connor can’t help but feel a pang of jealousy every time he sees them cuddled up together. He so badly wants that with Oliver.  
He thinks that he and Oliver are heading towards something inevitable, but the possibility that he’s reading too much into things leaves him too scared to make the first move.   
His two weeks at home has set him back, addiction-wise. He takes as much Xanax as he’d done before Oliver staged his “not-an-intervention” intervention, but he tries to limit his Vyvanse use to the mornings, so he won’t stay up all night and tip Oliver off to the fact that he’s abusing his prescriptions again.   
Oliver goes home one weekend for a family wedding, and Connor ends up at a party in town. There’s a local girl there, Rebecca, someone Wes has known since they were kids. She brings drugs, and Connor ends up trying Cocaine for the first time.    
He spends the next day feeling like shit; he knows he has an addictive personality, that it was a terrible idea to even try a harder drug. He decides to avoid those parties in future, to limit his access to anything besides his pills and the weed he smokes occasionally. He’s only doing it for Oliver’s sake. He doesn’t give a shit about himself, but he knows that it would upset Oliver if he found out how fucked up Connor still is.

  
It’s mid-February when Connor decides he can’t wait any longer. They’re pigging out on candy and watching a movie in their room, lying on Oliver’s bed together. Oliver’s laughing at something happening in the movie, his eyes crinkling in the way they do that makes Connor’s heart skip a beat. And all Connor wants to do, all he can think about, is kissing him. He doesn’t want to come on too strong, though, in case he’s been completely wrong and he ends up ruining his friendship with Oliver. He’s starting to wish he’d taken a Xanax earlier, but he forces himself to not let the anxiety build up too much. He waits until Oliver grabs another mini chocolate from the bag at the end of the bed, and as soon as he settles back against the pillows again, Connor makes his move. He shifts closer to Oliver and rests his head on his shoulder. He feels Oliver freeze beside him for a second, then he relaxes and stretches his arm out to wrap it around Connor’s shoulders   
Oliver’s voice is soft when he says his name, like he’s afraid if he says it too loudly it’ll ruin what’s happening between them.   
He can feel Oliver’s eyes on him, and he turns his head to meet his gaze. Oliver’s eyes travel to his lips, then back up to meet his.  
“Connor?” He whispers again, and it’s a question and a promise wrapped up as one.   
Connor gives a small nod, his heart pounding with anticipation, and he raises his lips to meet Oliver’s. The kiss is gentle, Oliver’s lips so soft against his. He starts to pull back, but Connor reaches out, cupping the back of Oliver’s neck and tugging him closer as he deepens their kiss. He tastes like the dark chocolate he’s been eating. Connor’s never been a fan of it before, but now he decides it’s his new favorite flavor. Oliver grows bolder, pushing Connor onto his back and moving so he’s half on top of him, his leg in between Connor’s and his fingers tangled in his hair. Connor slips his hands under Oliver’s shirt, resting them on the small of his back. He expects the next step to be shedding their clothes – is so ready to feel Oliver’s warm skin pressed up against his own – and the sudden loss of contact when Oliver pulls away leaves him whining.   
“What are we doing?” Oliver’s question throws Connor.  
“What do you mean? Do you not want to-“  
“No.” Oliver’s quick to respond. “I want this, to an embarrassing degree. I just want to make sure we’re on the same page here, because I really like you. A lot.”  
“I like you too.” Connor reaches for his hand, linking their fingers together. “I want all of it with you, Ollie.”  
“All of it?” He looks so damn hopeful, and Connor is hit with the realization that Oliver _really_ wants to be with him. It makes his heart race, and he leans forward and kisses him again.  
“Yeah.” He shrugs. “I mean, we’re kind of past the beginning phase of a relationship, don’t you think? We know everything about each other. We’re already living together, even. The only thing that’s really missing is the physical stuff. And a label.”  
“So we’re boyfriends now?”  
“If you want to be, yeah.”  
Oliver responds by pushing him back down on the bed and pressing his mouth firmly against Connor’s again. Oliver rolls onto his side, wrapping his arm around Connor’s waist, slipping his hand under Connor’s shirt and running his hand lightly up and down his back.  They finally pull apart, exchanging bashful smiles. Oliver takes hold of his hand, his thumb circling over Connor’s.  
There’s a quietness that settles between them. The movie is still playing, but neither of them pay any attention to it. They lay facing each other without speaking, eyes locked on each other’s, their gazes only broken when one of them leans in for another quick kiss. Connor doesn’t think he’s ever felt happier.  
“I’ve had a crush on you since the moment I saw you.” Oliver confesses.  
“I was stark naked, Oliver. That’s just lust.”  
Oliver snorts. “No, I’m serious! I found you attractive, sure, but it was more than that. I really liked you, and then you started hooking up with Aiden and I just got so jealous. That’s why I was so annoyed with you all the time. Well, that and you took way too many pills that kept you – and me-  up half the night.”  
“You really hate Aiden, don’t you?” He ignores Oliver’s comment about the pills, doesn’t want to open that can of worms any time soon.  
“With a passion.”  
“Why?”  
Oliver sighs. “There aren’t many openly gay guys here at school, as you know. My freshman year he found out I’m gay and pretended to like me. I think he just wanted to find out what it was like to be with a guy. I found out he was dating Michaela before anything happened between us, but it still hurt. I’d started to really like him.”  
“I’m sorry,” Connor runs a hand through Oliver’s hair. “Aiden’s a real asshole.”  
“He is,” Oliver agrees. He moves so he’s on top of Connor. “But let’s not waste our first night together as a couple talking about him.”  
Connor closes his eyes as Oliver starts sucking a love bite onto his neck. He slips his hands under the waistband of Oliver’s sweatpants, reaching down to cup his ass. Oliver thrusts forward, letting out a whimper as their crotches rub together.   
Connor doesn’t remember the last time he was this turned on and desperate for someone. He’s about to suggest they get rid of their clothes when there’s a knock on the door. They try to ignore it, but the knocking increases, getting louder and more insistent.  
“Fuck.” Oliver rolls off of him, adjusting himself as he heads over to the door.  
“Yeah, I wish we could,” Connor grumbles, pulling the duvet up to cover his erection. Oliver shoots him a wicked grin, then opens the door.  
Asher stumbles into the room. His eyes are red from crying and he looks devastated.   
“My dad’s been arrested,” he tells them, his voice cracking. He stops and stares at Connor in Oliver’s bed, his eyes focusing on the bruise on Connor’s neck. His head whips back and forth between the two of them. “Are you two hooking up?”  
“Trying to,” Connor says under his breath.   
Oliver glares at him, then turns back to Asher.  
“We’re together now. But that doesn’t matter, what’s going on with your dad?”  
“My mom just called me. He’s being accused of fraud.”  
Connor sits up, fixing his hair. “Is he going to be okay?”  
“Yeah, he didn’t do this, right?” Oliver looks at Asher. “He’s probably being set up by someone.”  
Asher shrugs, fighting back tears. “I’m pretty sure he’s guilty.”  
“Shit.” Connor shakes his head. “That’s rough, man.”  
“Is there anything we can do for you?” Oliver asks.  
“I know I’m totally interrupting and you probably hate me, but would you guys mind if I crashed in here?” Asher looks at them hopefully. “I just really don’t want to be alone right now.”  
“Of course not. You can take my bed,” Connor tells him. “Oliver and I will share.”  
Oliver nods his agreement, and Asher climbs into Connor’s bed. The three of them sit in silence for a while, each boy lost in his own thoughts. Connor glances over at Asher, sees how anxious the other boy looks, and sighs.  
“Fuck it.” He gets out of Oliver’s bed and heads over to his bedside table, rummaging through the drawer until he finds his Xanax bottle. He takes one, then hands a pill to Asher. “I think we could all use one of these tonight.”  
Asher takes it gratefully, swallowing it dry like Connor did. “Thanks, man.”  
“Yeah,” Connor turns to Oliver, who’s sitting in bed, just staring at him. “Come on, Ollie. Tonight calls for special circumstances, doesn’t it?”  
Oliver shakes his head. “I’m good, thanks.”  
“Alright.” He shrugs, throwing the bottle back into the drawer and closing it. He gets back into bed beside Oliver, but he can tell the other boy is tense.  
“You okay?” He asks quietly when Asher gets up to use the restroom.  
“I’m annoyed, Connor.” Oliver snaps. “I thought you were working on not relying on pills.”  
“I am!” Connor argues, even though he knows it’s a lie. “I just think Asher could use some help relaxing tonight, okay? He’s just had some devastating news, for fuck’s sake.”  
“Okay.” Oliver holds his hands up, surrendering the argument. “I’m sorry.”  
Connor kisses him, trying to ignore the guilty feeling that’s nagging at him. “I forgive you.”  
Oliver kisses him back, his tongue sliding into Connor’s mouth, when Asher walks back into the room.  
“Ugh, guys!”  
They separate, and Connor gives Asher the finger, but he’s grinning. “Fuck off, Millstone. You’re the reason I’m not getting laid tonight, you can deal with seeing us kiss.”  
Oliver looks at him. “Getting laid? You’re a bit presumptuous, aren’t you?”  
“Oh, I just assumed…” Connor can feel his face getting warm.  
“I’m just kidding,” Oliver nudges him. “We’d totally be fucking right now.”  
“Oh yeah? What would you be doing to me?” Connor wiggles his eyebrows.  
Asher groans loudly, and both Connor and Oliver burst out laughing.   
“You guys are assholes,” Asher tells them. “But I am glad you finally got your shit together. Took you both long enough. Just please, try to refrain from having sex in front of me.”  
Connor stays awake long after both the other boys have fallen asleep. He feels awful, both for what Asher is going through and for lying to Oliver. He has a problem, he knows he does, but he’s too afraid to give up the one thing that’s gotten him through the last few hellish years of his life.


	8. 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took me so long to get this chapter up, it's been a shit few weeks for me health wise. Anyway, here it is. Next one should hopefully be up sooner than this one was.

Connor wakes up to Oliver nuzzling into his neck, trailing soft kisses up along his jawline. He glances over and sees Asher is still passed out on his bed, then turns his head to look at Oliver.  
“Good morning,” he whispers, smiling sleepily.   
“Good morning, _boyfriend_.” Oliver grins back, and god, Connor wants him _so_ badly.  
He ignores their morning breath and leans forward to kiss him, just because he’s now allowed to.   
“We’d better get ready for class,” Oliver says quietly. “Do you think we should wake Asher up?”  
“Nah, let him sleep. Maybe you should take the day off too?” Connor whispers. “He could probably use a friend, and I’m sure the school’s heard about what happened. They’d be understanding, wouldn’t they?”  
Oliver nods. “I’d imagine so.”  
Connor skips breakfast in lieu of spending another half hour curled up in Oliver’s arms. They don’t say much, just staying quiet and exchanging gentle kisses that Connor wishes could progress further, but can’t due to their friend sleeping just a few feet away from them. He reluctantly gets up when he knows he’s pushing it timewise. He’s most likely going to be late for his first class.  
He dresses quickly, then leans down to press a kiss to Oliver’s cheek. “I’ll see you at lunch.”  
He slips out the door, taking care to keep quiet so as not to wake Asher up.  
It’s raining outside, the sky dark and gloomy, and he almost slips on the wet grass as he races to his English classroom. He bursts in the door, interrupting the teacher mid-sentence.  
“Thanks for joining us, Mr. Walsh.” Mr. Keating looks at him sternly.   
“Sorry,” he huffs, out of breath from his dash across campus. “I overslept.”  
“And where is Mr. Hampton? He’s your roommate, isn’t he?”  
Connor’s pretty sure Mr. Keating knows about the arrest, since he’s married to the headmistresses, but he doesn’t think Asher would appreciate him announcing his father’s arrest to his class, so he lies. “He was up sick all night, and he forgot to set the alarm, that’s why I overslept. He’s still sick, so he’s taking the day off.”  
Mr. Keating doesn’t look like he believes him, but he doesn’t say anything else, so Connor just slips into his seat and tries to remain inconspicuous for the rest of class.  
He’s hoping to make a quick exit once class ends, to try find Wes and fill him in on Asher’s situation, but Mr. Keating stops him.  
“Mr. Walsh, may I have a word, please?”  
“Yeah, sure.” Connor heads over to his desk. Mr. Keating waits for the last student to leave before he speaks.  
“We don’t tolerate tardiness here.” Mr. Keating fixes his stern gaze onto him. “I’ll let it slide this once, but consider this a warning.”  
“Yes, sir.” Connor nods, dropping his eyes to the ground.  
There’s silence, then Mr. Keating sighs. “That’s all, Mr. Walsh. You’d better hurry so you’re not late for your next class.”  
Connor nods again, then grabs his backpack and rushes to his next class, cursing at Mr. Keating under his breath. If he’s late for his next class, it’s all his teacher’s fault for keeping him behind.  
He makes it to his Government class on time, but just barely, and he takes his seat next to Wes.  
“You okay?” Wes whispers to him, looking concerned at Connor’s disheveled appearance.  
Connor nods. “I’ll fill you in later.”  
He doesn’t get a chance to tell Wes until class ends, and they’re joined by Laurel and Michaela outside the classroom.  
“Asher’s dad got arrested for fraud last night.”  
“Shit.” Wes grimaces. “Is he doing okay?”   
“He’s too upset to go to class today, and Ollie is staying back in the house with him.”  
“Is there anything we can do for him?” Michaela asks.  
“I’m not sure.” Connor shrugs. “I’ll go back to the room at lunch and find out if he knows anything else yet. If he’s not going home maybe he’ll be up for the barn tonight.”  
The other three nod, and Connor promises to text them once he speaks to Asher before they have to part ways for their next classes. Laurel’s in his calculus class, so they walk together.  
“So, um, I have some other news.” He can feel his face heating up as she looks over at him curiously. “Oliver’s my boyfriend now.”  
“Really?!” Her expression lights up. “It’s about time! We were ready to start placing bets on when the two of you would get together.”  
“You guys knew we liked each other?”  
She snorts. “You were hardly subtle, Connor. Neither was Oliver.”  
“God, that’s embarrassing.” He groans, causing her to laugh harder.  
“No, it’s cute!” She nudges him. “I’m happy for you.”  
“Thanks,” he smiles shyly. They’ve reached their classroom, and their conversation ends as they take their assigned seats across the room from each other.   


It’s finally lunch time, and Connor grabs a few slices of pizza from the cafeteria before he heads back to his room. He finds Asher and Oliver talking solemnly. They look up when he walks in, and Oliver’s eyes crinkle as he smiles. Connor doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to seeing Oliver looking at him that way.  
“Hey babe.”  
“Hey.” He pecks a kiss to Oliver’s cheek as he sits down beside him on the bed, then looks over at Asher. “I filled the others in on what’s going on.”  
“Thanks.” Asher tries to smile, but it ends up looking more like a grimace.  
“They want to see you tonight, if you’re staying here.”  
Asher nods. “Yeah, I spoke to my mom. She told me it’s best if I don’t go home right now. She’s busy with lawyers and trying to sort everything out, and I’d just get in the way.”  
“I’m sorry, man.” Connor tells him, but Asher just shrugs and reaches for a slice of the pizza.  
“Is it awful that I don’t feel particularly sad over his arrest?” Asher asks them between bites. “I feel terrible for my mom, and I feel a bit guilty that I don’t feel sad, but that’s all. I mean, my dad is kind of a dick. I’m not really surprised he was caught doing this shit.”  
“Nah,” Connor shakes his head. “To be honest, I’d probably throw a fucking party if it were my dad. They’re our parents, doesn’t mean we need to like them as people.”  
“It’s sad, isn’t it?” Oliver says quietly. “The older we get, the more we realize how messed up our parents really are. They’re not these amazing grownups who have all their shit together, like we thought they were when we were younger.”  
Connor and Asher both nod in agreement.  
“Well, I’m gonna go take a shower, give you lovers some alone time.” Asher wiggles his eyebrows at them, and Connor flips him off.   
He waits for Asher to leave the room, then turns and wraps his arms around Oliver, pulling him into a kiss.   
They pull apart and Oliver grins at him. The affection he feels towards Connor is evident on his face, and it makes Connor’s heart beat faster.  
“I missed you,” Oliver says huskily.  
“I was only gone for a few hours,” Connor laughs.   
“Still too long to be away from you.”  
Connor kisses him again. “I agree.”  
They move further up on the bed, Connor laying back against the pillows and Oliver lowering himself gently on top of him, using his arms to hold himself up as he stares down into Connor’s eyes.  
“I can’t believe you’re mine.” Oliver sounds like he’s in awe, and Connor can’t help but blush.  
“Stop it,” he whispers. “I’m not that great.”  
“Are you kidding me? You’re so far out of my league, it’s ridiculous.”  
Connor frowns. “That’s not true, Ollie. If anyone’s out of anyone’s league, it’s you.”  
“Oh please.” Oliver snorts.  
“I’m serious! You’re good looking, you’ve got a much nicer personality than I do, you’re smarter than me… I could keep going, if you’d like.”  
Oliver’s the one blushing now, and he surges down, kissing Connor passionately. They’re both aware that Asher could return at any moment, so they pull apart when things start becoming too heated.  
“You’re going to be late for class,” Oliver tells him, checking his watch.  
“I don’t want to go.” Connor moves onto his side so he’s facing Oliver. “I’ll just tell my teachers on Monday that I was feeling sick.”  
Oliver smiles at him. “Hey, I know there’s another party at the hotel tomorrow night, but would you mind if we skipped it? I want to take you on a proper date.”  
Connor nods, smiling back at Oliver. “I’d much rather be alone with you, anyway.”  
They’re about to kiss again when Asher returns, bursting into the room with his hand covering his eyes.  
“Are you both decent?”  
“No, we’re both stark naked.” Connor rolls his eyes. “Yes, we’re decent.”  
Asher lowers his hand and glares at him. “Anyway, I texted Wes. They’re going to meet us at the barn later. We need to go into town and pick up some more wine for the girls.”  
“Where are we supposed to get that from?” Connor asks him. “None of us are old enough to buy alcohol.”  
“We have our connections.” Asher tells him, trying to sound mysterious.  
“Well no shit,” Connor rolls his eyes again. “I figured as much, considering the amount of alcohol this student body consumes on a weekly basis. I was just curious as to how it’s being supplied.”  
“There’s a guy who works at the liquor store,” Oliver tells him. “He tends to misread the birth dates on ID’s quite often, if you tip him enough.”  
  
\--

 

They sneak off campus as the sun starts setting. They’re allowed to leave, as it’s the weekend now, but they don’t particularly care to run into any teachers or administration considering the three of them had ditched classes. They dash across the outskirts of the football field, slipping in the still damp grass. They make it to the far end of the field and slow down as they head through the woods and towards the town.  
Connor and Oliver wait outside the liquor store while Asher goes in to buy the wine. It’s stopped raining by now, but it’s still cold enough that they end up wrapping their arms around themselves to keep warm.  
“I hope it’s not going to be too cold tonight.” Oliver rubs his hands together.  
“We have blankets in the barn, it should be fine.” Connor tells him. “Plus, the alcohol should help keep us warm.”  
“Yeah, I guess so.” Oliver sighs. “God, I just feel so awful for Asher. I know he says he’s not upset about his dad being arrested, but it’s still got to be such a scary thing to go through.”  
Connor nods in agreement. “I can’t even imagine how his poor mom is coping.”  
Asher appears then, rounding the corner of the store clutching bags filled with bottles of wine.   
“Michaela texted me,” He tells them. “The others are picking up some food for us.”  
“Awesome.” Oliver rubs his stomach. “I’m starving.”  
“Got enough alcohol there?” Connor raises an eyebrow and indicates towards the excessive amount of wine Asher bought.  
“I’m in the mood to get very drunk tonight,” Asher tells him.  
They head over to the barn, Asher leading the way. Oliver reaches over and takes hold of Connor’s hand while they walk, and Connor has to fight to keep his smile under control. Everything with Oliver is so new to him, and he knows it’s stupid, knows that there’s no reason to play it cool with Oliver, but he’s nervous to let the other boy know just how happy he makes Connor.   


They make it to the barn before the other three, and Asher gets a head start on drinking, taking a bottle of the wine for himself.   
“You wanna share?” Oliver asks Connor, and he nods.  
“Yeah, you pick something.” He grabs a blanket and a few pillows from their storage pile and spreads them out over a bale of hay, making sure it’s comfortable enough for them to sit on.  
Oliver joins him, a bottle of red wine in his hand. He takes a drink and hands it over to Connor. He’s never been a big fan of red wines, but this one is sweet, more like a dessert wine, and Connor is a convert.   
They’re half way through the bottle when the others show up, boxes of Chinese food in tow.   
They spend the rest of the night doing everything they can to distract Asher from his family troubles. The bottles of wine are emptied in no time, and soon Wes is producing some blunts. Connor decides not to smoke tonight, and the pleased look Oliver gives him makes him feel guilty, because he knows Oliver is under the impression that he’s giving up drugs, which couldn’t be further from the truth. He forces himself to push those feelings aside for now. He’s drunk, and he feels loose-limbed and happy as he looks around at his friends; at Laurel, who is laughing at something Wes said, her cheeks pink from the wine. At Wes, who is looking at Laurel like she’s the best thing he’s ever seen. Michaela and Asher are in the corner, engaged in a heated debate over some tv show.  
He knows that the real world is out there, that they’re going to leave this barn and face reality, but for now he chooses to just be in the moment, to enjoy the company of the first real friends he’s had in years. And more importantly, he thinks, he wants to always remember what it feels like to be in the arms of the person he cares about most in this world. He doesn’t feel consumed by the insecurity that’s been plaguing him for as long as he can remember; instead, all he feels is light. He turns and catches Oliver’s eyes, and this time he’s unable to keep the smile from taking over his face. He reaches for Oliver’s hand, clasps it tightly with his own, and feels the sadness that’s consumed him float away.

 

 

They make their way back to campus shortly before the sun starts to rise. Wes doesn’t want to go home while he’s still drunk, so he goes back with them to crash with Asher in his room. Connor and Oliver finally have their room to themselves, but they’re too exhausted to fool around. They strip down to their underwear and practically collapse onto Oliver’s bed, both unable to even utter a word before they’re both passed out.  
It’s mid-afternoon when Connor wakes up. Oliver is already awake, still lying beside him, engrossed in a book.  
“What’re you reading?”  
Oliver lowers his book and smiles at him. “Good afternoon, sleepyhead.” He leans down to peck a kiss against Connor’s lips. “I’m reading The Picture of Dorian Gray. Have you ever read it?”  
Connor shakes his head. “Nope. Read it to me?”  
“I’m halfway through the book, won’t you be confused about what’s going on?”  
“Don’t care. I just want to lay here and listen to you.”  
Oliver blushes slightly, and clears his throat. “Okay.”  
Connor moves so he’s pressed up against Oliver’s body, relishing the feeling of warm skin on warm skin as they cuddle. He closes his eyes and sighs contentedly, listening to Oliver as he reads out loud for him.  
He doesn’t know how long they’ve been laying there, but Oliver must be keeping track because he finally puts the book down.  
“We need to get ready. Don’t forget, I’ve got a date planned for us tonight.”  
Connor lets out a low whine, clinging onto Oliver. “I don’t want to let you go.”  
“Connor,” Oliver laughs. “We need to shower and get ready.”  
“We could shower together.” Connor offers, and Oliver gulps.  
“O-okay.”  
“Yeah?” Connor sits up, grinning. “I thought I’d have to wait for after our date to get you naked, Ollie.”  
“Shut up,” Oliver laughs, but he’s blushing again. “Come on.”  
He climbs out of bed, then takes hold of Connor’s hand and tugs him out after him. They head into the bathroom, dropping their underwear on the tiled floor. Oliver leans into the shower to turn on the water, and Connor can’t help but admire his ass. Oliver turns around and notices him staring, and his blush deepens even further.  
“Stop staring at me!”  
“Oh come on, don’t be embarrassed. Your ass is perfect.” Connor teases him.  
“Shut up!” Oliver hits him, but he’s laughing now.  
They get into the shower, and it isn’t long before Connor is on his knees, blowing Oliver as the other boy leans back against the wall, his eyes shut and face filled with pleasure as he gasps out. Connor looks up at Oliver and can’t help but feel proud that he’s able to make him feel this good. Oliver tries to push Connor back before he comes, but Connor just shakes his head and continues sucking, swallowing every last drop of Oliver’s cum. He stands up, trying to ignore the ache in his knees from being pressed against the hard shower tiles, and Oliver places his hands on either side of his face, pulling him into a passionate kiss, tasting himself on Connor’s tongue. He finally pulls away, both of them breathing heavily.  
“We should stop, or we’re going to miss dinner.”  
“You made reservations?”  
“Of course I did.” Oliver smiles at him, suddenly looking shy. “I want to impress you.”  
Connor feels his heart skip a beat, and he kisses Oliver again quickly before stepping out of the shower.  
“I’m already impressed by you, Ollie. But I’m also fucking starving, so let’s go.”


	9. 9

Oliver’s made reservations for them at the fanciest restaurant in town. It’s a bit stuffy and pretentious, and they’re clearly the youngest people there by at least two decades, but Connor doesn’t say anything because he can tell Oliver is trying so hard to impress him.   
“So, what’s good here?” Connor asks him as he glances over the menu.  
“I’m not sure,” Oliver admits. “I’ve never been here before. I just wanted to surprise you with someplace nice.”  
Connor reaches over the table and squeezes his hand. “I’m already a sure thing for you, Ollie. You don’t need to spend all your money on me.”  
“I know,” Oliver blushes. “I just want to.”  
“Thank you.” Connor smiles at him, completely endeared by the other boy.  
Oliver insists on Connor ordering anything he wants, but Connor doesn’t feel right about making him spend an excessive amount of his allowance on one meal, so he orders the cheapest thing on the menu, which ends up being a still ridiculously overpriced pasta dish.  
They decide to get ice cream from the little mom and pop store a few streets over for dessert, then they walk around town for a while, holding hands and talking. They end up near the hotel they know the weekly party is being held at, and Oliver looks at Connor quizzically.   
“Do you want to stop by the party?”  
“Nah,” Connor shakes his head. “I’d rather just go back to our room, if that’s okay with you.”  
Oliver smirks at him. “Oh yeah? To do what?”  
Connor steps closer to him, leaning forward and pressing his lips against Oliver’s ear.  
“First I’m going to take your clothes off,” he whispers, “then I’m going to take my time kissing every single inch of your body. And then…”  
He isn’t able to finish his sentence before Oliver takes a step back and grabs his hand. “Okay, let’s get back to the room now.”  
Connor laughs, and he lets Oliver lead him in a speed walk back to campus.  
They make it back in record time, and the second they close the door to their room, Connor pushes Oliver onto his bed and makes good on his promises. Afterwards, as they lay in each other’s arms, completely sated, Oliver looks at Connor and grins.  
“Well, I’d say our first date was a success, wouldn’t you?”  
“Meh, it could’ve been better.” Connor shrugs, then snickers when he sees the shocked look on Oliver’s face. “I’m kidding. Tonight was perfect.”  
Oliver hits him gently. “You’re such a jerk.”  
“Yeah, but I’m your jerk, so you have to be nice to me.”  
“I guess so.” Oliver gives an exaggerated sigh, then laughs and presses a kiss against Connor’s temple. “But seriously, Connor, I’m really happy being with you.”  
“Me too,” Connor says quietly. “The happiest I’ve been in years.”  
Oliver’s eyes search his. “In years?”  
Connor resists the urge to break eye contact with Oliver and nods once. “I mean, it’s no secret that my family and I don’t have a very good relationship. I think the last time anyone in my family showed any affection towards me was when I was twelve.”  
Oliver looks sad. “I can’t stand the thought of you being unhappy for so long.”  
“Hey, I’m fine.” Connor’s eyes search Oliver’s. “Seriously, babe, it could’ve been worse. Some kids get hit by their parents. The worst I got were insults about my sexuality and some other snide comments.”  
Oliver still looks troubled, despite Connor’s attempt to reassure him. “They may not have hit you, but emotional abuse is still a really shitty thing to go through, Connor.”  
Connor breaks their eye contact and lowers his eyes, struggling to find words to respond to Oliver’s statement. When he finally speaks again, he’s surprised by how strained his voice sounds.  
“Can we please change the subject? This discussion is about as much fun for me as getting root canal or pulling splinters.”  
“Yeah, of course.” Oliver still sounds upset, but thankfully doesn’t press Connor any further. “Hey, I’ll be spending most of the summer in New York with my brother. Maybe you could come visit me, like we talked about on New Year’s Eve?”   
“I’d love that,” Connor smiles at him. “Your brother wouldn’t mind?”  
“Nah.” Oliver shakes his head. “I mean, we’ll have to share his pullout couch to sleep on, but he’ll be cool with it.”  
“Okay.” Connor’s smile widens. “Summer in New York with you sounds perfect. More than perfect, even.”  
“There’s just one problem, though.” Oliver frowns, feigning being upset, but there’s a sparkle in his eyes that betrays him.  
“And that is?”  
“We’ll be sleeping in the living room, which means we’ll need to be extra quiet when we’re fooling around so he won’t hear us.”  
“Well, I think we’d better start practicing being as quiet as possible during sex, then.” Connor grins wickedly at him. “In fact, I think we’d better start practicing right away.”  
“I definitely agree with you, Mr. Walsh.” Oliver smirks back at him. “But this time, I’m on top.”  
“Sounds good to me.” Connor’s barely able to get the words out before Oliver is kissing him again.

  
  
  
They spend all of Sunday in their own little bubble. Connor briefly wonders why none of their friends have tried to contact them all day, but those thoughts are quickly chased away by Oliver’s lips on his, his hands roaming Connor’s body.  
Monday morning comes far too soon for Connor’s liking, and he drags his feet as he sleepily trails behind Oliver into the dining hall. They’re nearing the front of the queue for food when he spots their friends sitting at their usual table. He can see the furious look on Michaela’s face from across the room; her eyes are narrowed and her jaw is clenched as she stares down at the plate of food in front of her.  
“Um, I think we missed something this weekend. Michaela looks pissed as hell.”  
“Damn, you’re right.” Oliver winces. “I’d hate to be the one on the receiving end of her wrath.”  
They’ve finally reached the front of the line, so Connor just murmurs in agreement as they both pile their plates up with food and head over to join their friends.   
Asher is saying something to Michaela, but he falls silent when he sees Connor and Oliver approaching them.  
“Hey guys,” Connor greets them hesitantly, aware of the tension that’s filled the air around them. “You okay, Michaela?”  
Michaela lets out a derisive snort, then fixes her cold stare onto Connor. “How dare you.”  
“What?” Connor takes a step back, stunned by Michaela’s icy attitude towards him.  
“I said, how dare you.” She practically spits the words at him. “How fucking dare you act like you’re my friend, like you give a shit about me, when you deliberately chose to fuck my boyfriend behind my back.”  
“What?” Connor can feel his blood running cold. “Michaela, I didn’t-“  
“Didn’t what?” She stands up suddenly, her chair’s legs scraping loudly on the floor and attracting the attention of pretty much everyone near them. “Are you seriously going to pretend you didn’t hook up with Aiden multiple times? Because one of Aiden’s friends got quite wasted this weekend and told me everything.”  
Her chest is rising and falling quickly, like she’s trying not to cry, and Connor feels like shit.  
“No, I just…I stopped hooking up with him before you and I started hanging out.”  
Michaela scoffs. “Like that makes any difference to me? We were friendly enough in class, you clearly already knew who I was. You knew Aiden and I were dating, but you still chose to fuck him anyway. And yeah, he’s a cheating and lying asshole, but you, Connor?” She points a trembling finger at him. “You’re the bastard who fucked my boyfriend behind my back and then had the audacity to act like you’re my friend to my face. But here’s the thing, you and I are not friends. Not anymore.”  
She stalks out of the dining hall, and the others hurry out after her, none of them even sparing a glance towards Connor as they go. Everyone’s eyes are on him, and he can feels his face burning bright red. The entire school will know he’s a backstabbing slut by the end of the day. He’d wanted so badly to just blend in here, to finally just be a face in the crowd, to not be the one people gossiped about. He can feels his anxiety starting to build up, and he knows he’s on the brink of a panic attack when he feels a gentle hand on his back.  
“Well, shit.” Oliver’s voice is strained, and it makes Connor feel even worse. He’s put Oliver in a terrible position, having to choose between his best friends and his boyfriend.  
“I need to get out of here.” Connor drops his tray on the table, barely registering the fact that his glass of orange juice is knocked over, spilling all over the tray and soaking the rest of the food. He turns and flees, making it back to the room in record time. He immediately heads over to his bedside table, digging in the drawer for his Xanax bottle. He finally locates it and shoves three pills in his mouth, swallowing them dry. He’s just closing the bottle when Oliver arrives, out of breath from running after him.  
“Connor,” Oliver sounds upset. “You don’t need to take pills over this. We can sort it out. I’ll make Michaela listen, get her to understand you didn’t do it to hurt her.”  
“Stop telling me I don’t need my pills, Oliver,” Connor snaps at him. “Considering what’s just happened, I think it’s more than okay for me to take as many Xanax as I fucking want.”  
Oliver is clearly biting his tongue, but he nods once. “Fine. But Connor, I don’t deserve you being angry at me. I’m the only one on your side here.”  
“Sorry.” Connor looks at the pill bottle in his hand, unable to make eye contact with Oliver. He shoves the bottle into his drawer and closes it swiftly, then lays down on his bed. “I’m going to take a sick day today. I don’t feel up to dealing with everyone.”  
Oliver nods. “Do you want me to stay with you?”  
“Nah.” Connor still avoids eye contact with the other boy. “I kind of just want to be alone today, if that’s okay.”  
“Sure.”   
Oliver stands there for a moment longer, then quietly leaves the room. Connor waits until he hears the door clicking shut, then rolls over onto his side and curls up in a ball as he lets his tears flow. His entire world is once again spinning on its axis, and he’s fucking terrified wondering what else is going to go wrong for him.  



	10. 10

Connor spends the day hiding out in the room. Oliver texts him, asking if Connor wants him to bring him any food for lunch, but Connor declines the offer, saying he isn’t hungry. He adores Oliver, but he can’t handle seeing him right now. He doesn’t want to know just how badly he’s fucked things up with his friends, and he’s sure Oliver’s gotten the full details on just how angry they all are at him.   
He can feel his anxiety growing every time he thinks about the mess he’s ended up in, so he takes three Xanax and lays back on his bed, shutting his eyes and waiting for the pills to take effect.  
  
He’s still lying in bed when Oliver comes back after dinner that night. He’s got a plate of food for Connor, but Connor can’t eat anything, not when Oliver’s got that troubled look on his face.  
  
“What’s going on, Ollie?”  
  
“I tried to get Michaela and the others to listen, I really did.”  
  
“What happened?”  
  
Oliver looks at him, frowning. “They don’t want you hanging out with them anymore.”  
  
He knew it was coming, but the words still hurt to hear. He hates himself so much for screwing up the first sincere friendships he’d found in years.  
  
“Okay. So I guess you and I are just going to have to spend time together in our room before and after classes?”  
  
Oliver’s frown deepens. “No…why would you think that?”  
  
“Well your friends hate me, so clearly I can’t still tag along with you during meals or join in any study groups.”  
  
“Connor,” Oliver sits own beside him, reaching out to touch his arm. “Jesus, do you really think I’d just completely abandon you?”  
  
Connor shrugs, and Oliver sighs. “You’re my boyfriend. We’re a team, okay? I’m not going to turn my back on you over this.”   
  
“Ollie, I can’t be the reason you lose your friends.”  
  
“I’m not going to lose my friends,” Oliver insists. “You fucked up, and they might be mad for a while, but I know you didn’t sleep with Aiden with the intention of hurting Michaela. And they’ll come around eventually, I’m sure they will.”  
  
Connor wishes he had even half of Oliver’s optimism. He doesn’t think Michaela will ever forgive him. He doesn’t say that though, instead, he forces himself to give Oliver a small smile, then starts eating. He didn’t realize how hungry he was until now.  
  
Oliver waits until he’s done eating, then stands up and throws Connor’s jacket at him.  
  
“Come on.”  
  
“Where are we going?” Connor frowns. “I don’t really want to see anyone, Ollie.”  
  
“We’ll be completely alone, I promise.”

Connor slips his jacket on and follows Oliver out the room. He isn’t sure if Asher is back from dinner yet, but he keeps his head low as they walk past his room, just in case. Oliver reaches for his hand and squeezes it gently, and Connor feels a warmth spread through his body. Oliver is always so _aware_ of his feelings, always looking out for his wellbeing. He’s never properly fallen for anyone before, but he knows that if he is ever going to fall in love with anyone, it’s going to be with Oliver.

Oliver leads him across the school grounds to the locker room that’s located near the football field. The sun is already starting to set, casting shadows across the ground. There’s a lone figure jogging around the field, and Oliver ducks down, dragging Connor with him as they take cover in the shadows of the large oak tree behind the building.  
  
“What are you doing?” Connor raises an eyebrow at his boyfriend, who is now peering around the side of the building at the person on the field.

“It’s Mr. Lahey. I don’t want him to see us.”

“Why? We’re allowed to be out here.”

“Yeah,” Oliver looks at him, his eyes sparkling. “But we’re not allowed to do what we’re about to do.”

Connor watches as Oliver starts climbing the tree, only stopping when he reaches the same height as the roof of the gym. He motions for Connor to follow him, then shimmies along one of the branches until he’s able to drop down onto the flat roof. Connor follows carefully behind him, silently praying that the branches he’s climbing on don’t break. He’d never really been the kind of kid who climbed trees growing up, always too afraid of getting hurt after he’d witnessed the neighbor’s kid fall and break his arm while climbing the tree in his back yard. He makes it to the top of the building without any problems, and hastily drops down onto the roof beside Oliver.

“What are we doing here?”

“This is one of my favorite places to come to just look at the stars and clear my head. I figured you could use something like that right now.”

Connor looks at Oliver in awe. “I don’t deserve someone like you.”

“What do you mean?”

“I just...” Connor’s voice trails off as he tries to find the right words to say. “You’re so thoughtful, Ollie. You’re always trying to make sure I’m okay, and I just fuck everything up all the time. And I feel so guilty, because I really don’t want to come between you and the others.”

Oliver sits down and motions for Connor to do the same. He waits until Connor is sitting crossed-legged beside him, then reaches for his hand, squeezing it briefly.

“I already told you, I’m not going to let this drama affect how I feel about you. And besides, Michaela will come around eventually, and the others aren’t going to hold a grudge once she’s over being mad at you.”

“I hope you’re right,” Connor says, then glances up at the now dark sky. “The stars are out.”

“Lay down with me.” Oliver stretches out on the rooftop, staring up at the stars.

Connor doesn’t particularly want to get his jacket dirty, but he follows Oliver’s request, settling down beside him and taking hold of his hand again. The stars are so bright, filling the entire sky, and it’s such a beautiful sight. Connor’s breath catches in his throat.

“I could lay here for hours,” Oliver tells him, his voice softer, like he doesn’t want to break the spell by speaking too loudly. “I know it sounds weird, but it always makes me feel better when I’m staring up at the stars. It reminds me that there’s a whole universe out there, and that my problems really aren’t that significant in the grand scheme of things. Helps to distract me from them, at least for a little while.”

They fall silent for a while, both of them just staring at the stars and lost in thought, until Connor finds himself speaking again.

“I’m glad I met you, Ollie.”  
  
“I’m glad I met you too,” Oliver tells him, then starts to say something more, but Connor stops him.

“No, listen.” He rolls over onto his side and looks at Oliver. “I don’t know why, but I’ve always struggled to get along with people like others seem to. I’ve watched people interact with each other, and they’re all able to laugh and joke and have proper relationships and they make it look so easy. I feel like everyone else seems to know some secret I don’t. Like they all know, much better than I do, how to be alive.”

“Connor-” Oliver tries to speak again, but Connor shakes his head, and the other boy shuts his mouth.

“It’s different with you, Ollie. I feel like I belong when I’m with you.”

“You do belong with me,” Oliver tells him, his voice husky with emotion. “God, Connor, you mean everything to me.”

Connor shifts so he’s closer to Oliver, then leans forward and kisses him tenderly. Every moment he spends alone with Oliver feels so intimate to him, and he isn’t used to feeling this way with anyone.

“You mean everything to me too,” he finally whispers in response. He wonders why they don’t just say what they really mean, but he thinks maybe Oliver is also afraid of using the word love too soon. He’s surprised to realize the idea of someone loving him doesn’t scare him as much as it used to. He thinks that maybe it’s just Oliver he isn’t afraid of being loved by.

They exchange a few slow kisses, until Oliver pulls away and runs a hand through his hair.

“Hey Connor?” He looks nervous suddenly. “My parents are coming to town next month. Do you think you’d want to come to dinner with us? It’s just that my parents are so formal and distant with me, and our conversations usually don’t go much deeper than asking about my GPA or the weather. With you there, it’ll at least give us something else to talk about.”

“Of course I’ll go to dinner with you guys,” Connor tells him. “Why didn’t you mention having issues with them before?”

“I don’t really have an issue with them,” Oliver shrugs. “They’re just intense when it comes to academia, and they’re really concerned about me having a high GPA and getting into the best university I can. Trying to live up to their expectations can get a bit exhausting sometimes.”

“So they’ll meet me and realize that they could’ve had it a lot worse and ended up with me as their son? That’ll get them off your back, won’t it?”

Oliver frowns, then realizes Connor is joking and laughs under his breath, pulling Connor close to him. “Shut up. They’ll think you’re just as amazing as I do.”

“Come on,” Connor sits up and hits Oliver’s leg gently. “Let’s go back to our room. I wanna fuck you.”

“Do you ever think about anything other than sex?” Oliver asks. He’s trying to look cross, but he’s already getting to his feet, so Connor isn’t fooled by his faked annoyance.  
  
Connor pretends to think for a second, then shakes his head. “Nope. Now come on, last one back to the room has to give the first blowjob.”

 

\--

 

The rest of the week passes by painfully slowly for Connor. Oliver stays true to his word, sticking by his side even while his best friends are incapable of even looking at Connor without glaring. He knows Oliver is the one who insisted on choosing Connor over his friends, but he still feels guilty.

Friday evening finally arrives, and Oliver begs Connor to go into town with him.

“We don’t have to stay at the party long,” he pleads. “I heard that some of my friends who graduated last year might be there, and I really want to see them.”

“Why don’t you just go with the others?”

“Because I want to spend my Friday night with you.” Oliver gives him puppy eyes. “Come on, Connor. We can just stop by the party for a little while, then we can go see a movie or come back here and I’ll let you do whatever you want to me.”

Connor sighs, throwing his hands up in defeat. “Fine, you win.”

The party isn’t as bad as Connor had thought it was going to be. The others are there, but they keep their distance from Connor and Oliver, so it isn’t too awkward. Connor’s standing beside Oliver while he talks to the friends he’d been hoping to run into when Rebecca approaches him.

“Hey Connor, you want to do lines with me again?”  
  
Oliver’s head snaps around, and he stares at Connor in shock.  
  
“Nah, not this time,” Connor tells her. He looks at Oliver, his heart sinking when he sees the anger on Oliver’s face. Rebecca shrugs and walks off, like she hasn’t just completely destroyed Connor’s life. “Ollie-“  
  
“I don’t want to hear it right now, Connor.” Oliver interrupts him. His voice is shaking, and he looks upset. Oliver’s friends back away slowly, clearly not wanting to be around for the fight that’s obviously about to happen.

“Come on, Ollie,” Connor pleads. Oliver stalks off towards the balcony, and Connor follows him, aware of everyone’s eyes on him. “Ollie! Please listen to me. I fucked up, okay? And I’m sorry. But I only did drugs with her one time, when you weren’t here.”

“Are you seriously trying to justify yourself right now? Jesus Christ, Connor.” Oliver shakes his head, his eyes burning with fury. “I took your side when everyone else got pissed off at you, and you’ve been lying to me this whole time.”  
   
“I didn’t lie to you, Ollie!”  
  
“ _Bullshit_! You let me believe you were working on getting off the pills, but you’ve really just been sneaking them behind my back, haven’t you? Don’t even act like you haven’t been, because I’ve noticed your bottles getting emptier a lot faster than they should be. And even worse, you’ve been trying harder drugs too!”

Connor can’t stop shaking; he knows he’s making a complete fool out of himself, but he’s too worked up to care. “I don’t blame you for hating me, Ollie. If I met me at a party or something, I’d probably end up despising myself. But I didn’t mean to lie to you. You mean everything to me.”  
  
“I don’t hate you, Connor.” Oliver let’s out a long sigh, his expression unreadable to Connor. “I just...I can’t be with someone who lies to me about big things like this.”  
  
Connor feels sick to stomach. “Ollie please don’t do this. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I’m such a fuckup, and I’m so selfish, but I need you. Please don’t leave me.”  
  
Oliver looks at him, pity on his face. “I just need some space right now, Connor.”  
  
Connor’s eyes flood with tears, and he wipes them away with a shaking hand as he turns and flees the party. He heads down the back stairwell and out the back entrance of the hotel, not wanting to deal with seeing anyone in the elevator or lobby.   
  
He doesn’t know where he’s going, just knows that he needs to get away from Oliver. He doesn’t want to go back to their room, doesn’t think Oliver would want to see him again tonight, so he finds himself making his way to the barn. The weather is getting warmer, so he figures he’ll be okay if he just piles all the blankets on top of himself. He lays awake all night, filled with self-loathing and despair.  
  
He hates himself for needing to rely on his fucking pills. He despises himself for ruining things with the only person in his life who gave a shit about him.   
  
He finally passes out from exhaustion when the sun is already rising, and by the time he wakes up its high in the sky. His phone is dead, so he can’t check the time, but he’s pretty sure it’s got to be at least lunch time.   
  
He knows he looks like a mess, his clothes are all rumpled and his hair is sticking up, but he’s starving, so he tries to neaten himself up as much as possible and heads back into town. He hates McDonald’s, but he wants something quick to eat, so he grabs a burger and some fries and eats them hidden in the corner, hoping no one comes in and sees him.   
  
He decides to go see a movie to kill time, trying to delay having to go back and face Oliver. He hides in the dark theater and wishes like hell that he’d thought to bring his pills with him to the party. He doesn’t want to feel sober right now. He doesn’t want to feel anything at all.

 

The house is quiet when he lets himself in that evening, and for a moment he has hope that Oliver isn’t there. That thought makes his heart ache even more; he can’t believe that he’s gone from wanting to spend all his time with the other boy to dreading seeing him, all in less than twenty-four hours.  
  
He can hear voices coming from Asher’s room when he reaches the top of the stairs. He pauses just outside the door and listens.  
  
“His phone keeps going straight to voicemail.” Oliver sounds panicked. “What if something’s happened to him?”  
  
“Rebecca says she hasn’t seen him.” Wes tells him.  
  
“Oh good, so at least we know he hasn’t gone on a drug binge and isn’t lying in a gutter somewhere.” He can hear the venom in Michaela’s voice, and he winces. “Maybe he’s found someone else’s boyfriend to go fuck.”  
  
No one in the room speaks up to defend him. He knows he shouldn’t expect any of them to, but it still hurts to hear the people he’d started to consider his best friends think so lowly of him. He steps forward into the open doorway before he can think twice about it.   
  
“Don’t worry,” he says hoarsely, and they all look at him with shocked expressions on their faces. “I’m still alive, unfortunately. So you can all go right on back to talking shit about me without worrying.” He looks at Asher, and he doesn’t know why but he can’t stop himself from spitting out, “Hey, good thing you’ve got practice sneaking girls in here, right? Wouldn’t want Laurel and Michaela to miss out on a good trashing Connor session.”  
  
Asher’s face pales, and Connor feels a twinge of guilt, but he’s so hurt and distraught that he can’t stop himself. “How is Ms. Winterbottom, by the way? Or does she prefer you to call her Bonnie when you’re fucking her? And speaking of fucking,” he sneers at Michaela, “maybe if you get better at it you’ll be able to keep a boy faithful to you.”  
  
“Connor!” Oliver’s horrified voice stops Connor’s tirade, the words drying in his mouth.   
  
He glances around the room, sees the shocked and disgusted looks on their faces, and he knows he’s really fucked up this time. He can’t bring himself to look at Oliver, instead just whispers an “I’m sorry” to the group before he flees to his room.  
  
He slams the door shut and hurries over to his side of the room. He digs through his bedside table until he finds his bottle of Xanax, and opens it with shaking hands. His movements are jerky, and he ends up dropping the bottle, spilling the pills across the floor. He sinks to the floor, hyperventilating and on the verge of a full-fledged panic attack. He grabs fistfuls of his hair, tugging on them as he gasps for breath. He doesn’t hear anyone come in, but the next thing he’s aware of is someone’s hands covering his, loosening their grip on his hair. He glances up through his tears and sees Oliver crouching in front of him, looking at him in concern.  
  
“Take deep breaths. Come on, you can do it.” He coaches him encouragingly, but Connor can’t handle Oliver being nice to him after the way he’s just acted, and it makes him sob harder.   
  
Oliver takes a seat beside him, wrapping his arms around Connor and pulling his trembling body against him, holding him tightly until he starts to calm down.  
  
“I’m sorry.” Connor apologizes once he’s finally able to speak again. “I’m so sorry.”  
  
Oliver looks pained. “You can’t keep doing this shit. You need to stop being so self-destructive."  
  
“I know.” Connor takes a deep, shuddering breath. “I’m sorry I fucked everything up, Ollie. I hate myself so much for ruining what we had.”  
  
“Connor, stop. You haven’t ruined us. I’m mad at you, I’m not going to pretend like I’m not, but god, I’m crazy about you, okay? I want to be with you more than anything. I just think you need to get help. Like, professional help.”  
  
Connor nods, then chokes out, “I know.”

They sit quietly while Connor gets himself under control. Once he’s finally managed to calm himself down, he gets up and starts pacing around the room. Oliver stands too, shoving his hands in his pockets and watching Connor cautiously.

“I’ve never known how much I’m allowed to fall apart. Like, at what degree of a complete fucking breakdown does it become too much? I’m so fucking tired, Ollie. I’m tired and I’m scared and I’m so goddamn sad all the time.”  
  
“I get that, Connor. But you feeling that way doesn’t give you an excuse to lash out at people. You didn’t need to say those things to Asher and Michaela.”  
  
“I know.” Connor looks down at his feet and sighs. “I fucked up so badly, Ollie. I don’t know why I did that. I just felt so hurt and I wanted to hurt them all too. So now you know the truth. I’m selfish, and I’m cruel, and I’m so fucking flawed.” Connor spreads his hands in front of him and shrugs, trying to put on a brave face even though his heart is hammering in his chest. He doesn’t know what he’s going to do if Ollie leaves him. “You can decide now if you want to stick around or if you want out of this relationship. It’s up to you.”  
  
Oliver just looks at him and shakes his head, and Connor can feel his heart sinking. He braces himself for the worst, expecting Oliver to at least let him down easy. He’s too nice to dump him in a harsh way.

What he isn’t prepared for is the way Oliver closes the distance between them, the way he huffs out, “ _you’re such an idiot_ ” before he pulls him into a deep kiss. It takes Connor a moment to register what’s happening, and then he relaxes and starts kissing Oliver back. Oliver’s tongue runs along his lips, and Connor parts them eagerly. Oliver grips at his thighs, lifting him up, and Connor wraps his legs around Oliver’s waist. He carries Connor across the room, then lowers them both down onto the bed gently. He lays on top of Connor, then raises his upper body and looks down at Connor. There’s a storm of emotions in his eyes; there’s the disappointment and hurt that Connor has caused him, but there’s also something that Connor thinks looks a lot like love.   
  
“Ollie,” he whispers, and Oliver lets out a soft, quiet sigh before he lowers his head and presses his lips against Connor’s again. Their kisses become desperate, and it isn’t long before they’re tugging at each other’s clothes, undressing quickly. The sex is rough and fast; they’re both desperate for each other, their emotions running high. Connor almost cries when he comes, which is so damn _embarrassing_ , but Oliver is gracious enough not to point it out, just pulls Connor’s trembling body against his as they regain their breaths.  
  
“We need to talk about getting you help,” Oliver sounds nervous, like he’s scared Connor is going to get angry with him, but Connor just nods in agreement.  
  
“I’ll call my dad in the morning. He should be able to find someone for me to see.” He raises his eyes to meet Oliver’s. “Do you think the others will ever forgive me?”  
  
Oliver kisses his temple. “I really don’t know anymore, Connor. I think you just need to be completely transparent with them, about everything, and hope for the best.”

Connor nods, swallowing away the lump in his throat. “I thought coming here was going to be so much better than my last school, but I’m still the same old me, fucking everything up. I should’ve taken this opportunity to reinvent myself.”

“It’s never too late to start over,” Oliver tells him as he runs a hand through Connor’s hair and starts to gently massage his scalp. “And don’t reinvent yourself too much. I happen to be quite fond of the Connor Walsh I know, drugs not included.”

Connor snorts out a laugh, but it sounds half-hearted even to his own ears. He closes his eyes and snuggles up closer to Oliver, feeling completely emotionally drained. He rests his head on Oliver’s chest, and the last thing he’s aware of before he falls asleep is the feeling of Oliver’s fingers still massaging his head, and the sound of his heart beating steadily in his chest.


	11. 11

Calling his father to ask about seeing a therapist is one of the hardest things Connor’s had to do. It goes surprisingly well, however; his father sounds pleased that he’s seeking help, and tells him that one of his former classmates has a practice a few towns over from where Connor’s school is.  
  
“I’ll make a call, see if I can get you in.”  
  
“Thanks, Dad.” He should know better by now, but he still lets himself start to feel slightly optimistic that things may improve between his parents and himself. That all comes crashing down, though, when his father responds.  
  
“Not a problem. I’m proud of you for finally deciding to do something about getting those disgusting thoughts out of your head.”  
  
Connor’s heart sinks with disappointment. “Uh huh,” he mumbles, trying to keep his voice emotionless. “Look, Dad, I gotta go. Can you just set up the appointment for me and let me know the details?”  
  
He hangs up as soon as his father responds, then throws his phone down onto the bed, groaning.

“What’s wrong?” Oliver’s concerned face fills his view as the other boy leans over him.

“He apparently thinks I want gay conversion therapy or something.” Connor tries to sound unbothered, but his voice comes out sounding sadder than he’d hoped it would.

Oliver immediately pulls him into his arms, holding him close. “I’m sorry you have to deal with that.”

“I shouldn’t have expected anything else from him.” He gives a choked laugh. “It’s fine, really.”

“No, it’s not.” Oliver pulls back to make eye contact with him. “I care about you so much, Connor, so please don’t shut me out.”

Connor doesn’t think he’s ever going to get used to the way he feels around Oliver. “You make me so happy, Ollie,” he confesses, almost in a whisper. “I wish we could just lock ourselves in here and hide from the rest of the world forever.”

“Mmm, that sounds perfect.” Oliver presses a chaste kiss against his cheek. “We might not be able to do that forever, but we can do it today.”

“I’d love to do it today,” Connor winks at him, and Oliver rolls his eyes. “But first I think I need to go talk to Asher before I lose my nerve.”

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“Nah,” Connor shakes his head. “I should do this alone.”

“Okay.” Oliver kisses him again. “Good luck.”

The walk down the hallway is one of the most nerve-wracking moments of his life. He’s beyond anxious, and he has to stop and take deep breathes once he reaches Asher’s room. He can see the light is on under the doorway, and he knocks hesitantly. He can hear footsteps shuffling across the room, and then the door swings open. Asher’s expression darkens the second he lays eyes on Connor.

“What do you want?” His voice is cold.

“Can I come in?

Asher crosses his arms and glares at him, staying silent.

“Please?”

“You have two minutes.” Asher finally concedes, stepping back and letting Connor into his room.

Connor waits for Asher to close the door before he speaks.

 “I know you probably hate me for telling everyone about you and Ms. Winterbottom.” Connor winces. “I fucked up, okay? I overheard you guys talking shit about me and I got upset and lashed out, and I’m sorry.”

Asher snorts derisively. “Stop playing the victim, Connor! The only one who said anything negative about you last night was Michaela. You had no reason to say the shit you said to me.”

“You’re right.” Connor can feel his face heating up with embarrassment. “And I’m so, so sorry. I can’t believe I acted like that, and I really hope that this isn’t the end of our friendship. Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?”

Asher stares at him, expressionless, before he finally relents. “I could use some more of that Xanax, to be honest.”

“Dude,” Connor groans. “Do you know how angry Oliver would get?”

“I’m not asking you to be my drug dealer. I just,” Asher’s voice softens, and he looks at Connor pleadingly. “I’ve been having a hard time dealing with stuff. I’m worried about my dad, and I have my mom calling me every night crying. And now I have to deal with everyone knowing about Bonnie, which has already been over for a few weeks. I’m stressed out and I just need something to help take the edge off for a while. Just a few pills, okay? You owe me that much.”

“I have to get a refill first,” Connor relents. “And you have to swear to keep it a secret.”

“Fine.” Asher eyes him curiously. “How did you even know about Bonnie anyway?”

“She stopped outside your door after she showed me to my room on my first day. She looked guilty when she caught me watching her.” Connor tells him. “I kind of suspected something was up, and then I saw her sneaking out of here one night while I was sneaking back in. So that confirmed it for me.”

“Damn.” Asher shakes his head. “We thought we were being so careful. Maybe it’s a good thing she ended things before anyone else figured it out.”

He tries to sound indifferent, but Connor can see the hurt in his eyes.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Asher blows his sympathy off. “It was just supposed to be fun, nothing serious. It was bound to end sometime.”

Connor nods. “Okay. Well, Ollie’s waiting for me in our room, so I guess I’ll see you around. I just wanted to clear the air with you.”

Asher surprises him by pulling him into a hug. “We’re all good, bro. But I don’t think I’m the one you really need to be apologizing to.”

“I know.” Connor winces. “I just don’t think I can handle dealing with more of Michaela’s wrath right now.”

“Well do it soon, because the rest of us really don’t like the group being split up like this.”

“I will.” Connor nods. “Thanks.”

He feels lighter as he makes his way down the hallway to his room. He hopes that his talk with Michaela goes as well as his talk with Asher did, although he kind of doubted it would.

Oliver is laying naked on top of his covers when Connor enters their room, his hand lazily stroking his hard dick. Connor feels his own dick twitch with interest, and he starts stripping down.

“Took you long enough,” Oliver tells him, and Connor throws his shirt at him. “Now hurry up, I want to see how many times we can make each other come today.”

“Did I ever tell you that you’re the best boyfriend ever?” Connor asks, but Oliver shakes his head.

“No time for flattery,” he tells him, tugging Connor onto the bed impatiently. “I need to be inside of you right now.”

“Yes sir.” Connor lies back, watching Oliver put a condom on and slick himself up with lube. “Hurry up, I thought you were desperate to fuck me.”

“Shut up,” Oliver grumbles, but he moves so he’s on top of Connor, the tip of his dick lining up with Connor’s hole.

“Make me,” Connor teases him.

“Oh, I intend to.”

Connor’s about to give a snippy comeback, but then Oliver’s pushing inside of him and Connor forgets what he was going to say.

They lose track of how many times they each come that day, but Connor doesn’t argue when Oliver insists that he won.

\--

 

His first session with the therapist is scheduled for late that Tuesday afternoon, which means Connor has to race across campus after his last class to catch the cab that’s waiting for him. He makes it to the therapist’s office with barely a minute to spare.

She’s waiting for him with her office door ajar, and she stands up to greet him.

“Are you Connor?”

He nods in response, and she smiles. “Come on in and take a seat.”

He nods again and shuffles into the room, shutting the door behind him. She’s not what he’d expected from a therapist. He’d expected someone rigid and no-nonsense, but this woman is dressed casually, her blonde hair thrown up into a ponytail and laughter lines ingrained on her face. She sits back into her chair, and he takes the seat across from her. There’s a couch against one of the walls that looks a lot more comfortable than the chair he’s on, but he thinks that’s far too cliché for him.

“I’m Sandra,” she tells him, smiling again.

Connor gives her a weak smile back but stays silent, his eyes roaming around the room. She seems a bit disorganized, with large piles of papers on her desk and books shelved haphazardly. There’s a stain on the small table beside her from her coffee mug, he notices. His eyes finally land on her again, and she’s watching him patiently.

He’d wanted this, but now that he’s here, he doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t even know if he can even trust this woman. She looks friendly enough, but she also knows his father, and he wonders if she’s going to be on the phone with him the minute Connor leaves.

She seems to notice his apprehension, because she takes a sip of her coffee and tells him, “Everything you say to me is completely confidential. Unless you’re at risk of harming yourself or others, nothing you say will leave this room.”  
  
Connor looks at her, and she must still be able to see the hesitation in his eyes, because she offers him a sympathetic smile.  
  
“Just because I knew your father in school doesn’t mean I’m on his side, Connor. I’m on your side, one hundred percent. You understand?”  
  
Connor nods. “Okay.”  
  
She smiles. “So, your father mentioned something about you wanting to stop having,” she checks her notebook. “Homosexual thoughts?”  
  
“Oh my god.” Connor groans. “No, I’m perfectly happy being gay. I just…I need to figure out how to handle my emotions, I guess.”

“How so?”

“I’ve been on medications for my anxiety and my ADHD for a while, and a few years ago I started taking higher doses than I was prescribed. Or I take them multiple times a day, popping them like they’re mints or something. I’ve been relying on pills to numb my feelings, and it’s started to affect my relationships.” He’d meant to stop then, but it seemed like now that he’d started speaking, he can’t stop. “I guess I just internalize everything, until it eats away at me and I can’t take it anymore. Then I go on a self-destructive binge and I push everyone away. It never mattered back home, because everyone already hated me there. But now I’ve got real friends and a boy who I think I might actually be falling in love with, and I’m scared shitless.”

She doesn’t react to his cursing, just peers at him over her coffee mug. “What’s making you scared?”

“I keep fucking up,” he tells her. “I keep letting him down and he keeps forgiving me, because he has the biggest heart of anyone I know. And I don’t mean to hurt him, but I can’t seem to stop myself from screwing up over and over again.”

He takes a deep breath and trains his eyes on the floor, feeling embarrassed. He’s not used to pouring out his feelings like this, but he can’t seem to stop.

“I just want to be someone whose worthy of him.” He says quietly.

“What do you think would make you worthy of being with him?” She questions him.

Connor shrugs. “He makes me want to be a better version of myself. To stop destroying my body with drugs and alcohol. I used to not care too much about what happened to me, but now…”

He trails off, but she doesn’t prod him further, just watches him until he finally speaks again.

“He’s the most important person in my life. And even though I still don’t really care much about myself, I’d do anything to make sure he’s happy.”

She asks him a few more leading questions, then looks at her watch.

“Our session is up for today,” she tells him. “I’ll see you again at the same time next week, and I want you to have a list of at least three things that trigger you and cause you to take more pills than you’re supposed to. We’ll discuss those and try figure out some coping methods, okay?”

He nods, and makes his way outside. There’s a text from Oliver on his phone, asking how the session went, and he calls him while he waits for his cab. Oliver picks up immediately, like he’d been staring at his phone waiting to hear back from him.

“Babe? Are you okay?” Oliver sounds concerned, and Connor can’t help but feel so fond of him.

“Yeah, I’m good.” He laughs. “I ended up talking almost non-stop. I’m sure she thinks I’m a complete wreck.”

“Don’t say that about yourself.” Connor can tell Oliver is frowning on the other end of the line. “You’re not a wreck.”

“We’ll just have to agree to disagree on that one for now. Hey,” he changes the subject, “I’m going to grab something to eat on the way back, do you want anything?”

“Yeah,” Oliver sighs. “Just get me whatever you get.”

“Okay.” He spots the cab approaching. “Hey, my ride’s here so I gotta go. I’ll see you soon.”

He asks the cab driver to drop him off outside the pharmacy rather than the school gates, and goes inside to pick up his refills. He texts Asher to let him know, telling him he’ll stop by his room to drop them off. He picks up some Chinese food for him and Oliver to share, then starts walking back to campus, trying to ignore the way his stomach is twisting with guilt over lying to his boyfriend.


	12. 12

“Oh my god,” Connor moans, his eyes fluttering shut. “This feels so good. Don’t stop.”

“Do you always sound like you’re having sex when you get a massage?” Oliver teases him, his hands working on the knots in Connor’s back.

Connor smirks. “I’m just lucky enough to have a boyfriend who’s really good with his hands.”

Oliver laughs, and Connor’s smile widens. He thinks that Oliver’s laugh may be his favorite sound in the world. But then again, everything about Oliver is his favorite thing. He’s in love. He’s never been more sure of anything in his life than he is about the fact that he is absolutely, head over heels, in love with Oliver Hampton. He wants to tell him, because if anyone deserves to know how much they’re loved, it’s Oliver. The words are on the tip of his tongue, but Oliver speaks before he’s able to say them.

“Did you get a chance to speak to anyone else today?”

Connor shakes his head and sighs. “Nope. Michaela won’t even look at me, and Wes and Laurel are like her lapdogs. I haven’t gotten a chance to get either one of them alone, and they sure as hell won’t talk to me in front of her.”

“I’m sorry, babe.” Oliver squeezes his shoulders gently. “They’ll come around eventually.”

“I’m not counting on it. They haven’t spoken to me in almost a week.” Connor can’t keep the sadness out of his voice, and Oliver moves to lay down beside him.

“Hey,” he says softly, “you got Asher to forgive you. Just give the others some time.”

Connor doesn’t respond. He feels guilt eating at him, and he wonders how Oliver would react if he knew the reason Asher had forgiven him so easily was because he’d given him a bunch of Xanax. He’d pretty much bought Asher’s friendship back with the pills Oliver hates so much, and there’s no way in hell Oliver would be okay with that.

Oliver seems to take his silence as Connor disagreeing with him, because he sighs and digs his finger into Connor’s side, causing him to squirm. “Come on, be optimistic.”

 Connor turns his head to see the other boy looking back at him so fondly, and he pushes his guilt to the back of his mind. He’ll deal with any potential fallout when it comes, but right now he’s got Oliver looking at him like he’s the best thing on this earth, and he wants to keep this feeling for as long as he can.

“I love you.” His voice comes out softly, almost a whisper, and he hopes that Oliver doesn’t think that means that Connor isn’t sure those words are true. “I mean it, Ollie. More than I’ve meant anything before in my life. I love you.”

Oliver looks at him, and Connor knows before he even says the words, can see it all over his face. “I love you, too.”

Connor shifts so their bodies are pressed together.

“I’m going to fix everything with the others,” he promises between kisses. “I’m going to fix everything, and I’m going to be better, for you.”

\--

 

Laurel and Wes would be easier to convince to forgive him, but Connor knows that they won’t even speak to him out of loyalty to Michaela, so he needs to win her over first. He waits for her outside her dorm house and catches her as she returns from dinner that night. She stops walking and glares the second she spots him.

“What the hell are you doing here?” she spits.

“I know you’re pissed at me, but please just hear me out,” he pleads.

She continues to glare at him, but finally relents. “Fine.”

“I’m sorry that I -” he stops speaking as two girls walk past them, both of them giving him curious looks as they enter the house. “Can we go somewhere to talk that isn’t so public?”

Michaela nods, leading the way down towards the football field. Connor waits until they’re no longer within hearing distance of anyone before he starts speaking again.

“Michaela, I’m sorry. I know that probably doesn’t mean much to you, but I really am.” He glances over at her, but he can tell she’s keeping her expression deliberately blank. “I was an asshole, okay? I knew you and Aiden were dating, and I still hooked up with him because I was selfish and self-destructive and probably every other awful thing you could think to call me. But I’m trying so hard to be a better person now, to be the kind of person who deserves someone like Ollie. And I’m so sorry for what I said to you the other night in Asher’s room. It was completely out of line, I know that. And I know you have every right to hate me forever, but I’m begging you to give me another chance at being your friend.”

Michaela finally looks at him. “Fine. But I’m doing this for Oliver’s sake, not yours.”

Connor nods. “I can deal with that.”

They walk in silence back up the pathway towards the houses, and Michaela starts towards her dorm, then turns and looks at him.

“I’ll see you at breakfast tomorrow?” She asks him.

“Yeah.” He nods.

She turns and walks inside without another word, and Connor heads back to his own dorm. She has not fully forgiven him, but for now what she’s given him is enough. His heart feels lighter as he hurries back to his room, back to the boy who loves him despite everything.

 

\--

 

Oliver and Connor join the others at breakfast the next morning, and it’s clear that everyone is going to act like nothing had ever happened. Michaela has forgiven him, so Laurel and Wes do to. They greet them cheerfully and smile brightly at Oliver, but those smiles fall a little flat when aimed at Connor. He knows it’ll take time for them to fully forgive him and accept him back into the group, but he’s fine with that. Just as long as Oliver is happy.

  
\--

 

“I’ve done really well this last week,” he tells his therapist at his appointment that afternoon. “I stayed sober, even when I had to have a difficult conversation with someone.”

“That’s great, Connor.”

He nods. “It isn’t easy, but I’m trying so hard to be a better boyfriend for Oliver.”

She frowns at that.

“You can’t become sober for someone else. What happens if you two break up, are you going to run straight out to fill another prescription?” She shakes her head. “You need to decide to be sober for yourself, Connor.”

“I am,” he protests. “I mean, yeah, Oliver is a big part of my decision to be sober. But I’ve just been so lost the past few years, and I’m finally starting to be happy again. I want to keep this feeling for as long as possible. I don’t want to hide behind those pills anymore, Oliver or no Oliver.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” she smiles at him. “What happened to make you feel lost?”

Connor tenses, then says quietly, “I don’t really want to talk about it, if that’s okay.”

She looks at him, then nods and scribbles something down in her notebook. She asks him a few more questions, trying to get the conversation going again, but Connor isn’t in the mood to talk anymore.

“Do you mind if we end the session early today?” He finally asks her. “I have a ton of homework to do tonight so I’d like to get back to school as soon as possible.”

She clearly doesn’t believe him, but she sighs and shuts her notebook. “Sure, Connor. I’ll see you next week.”

Connor nods and hurries out the door. There’s still twenty minutes until his cab will be there, so he finds a spot to sit that’s out of view of his therapist’s office. He feels sick, and he wishes he’d never mentioned anything to her about his past. She let him change the subject this time, but he knows how these therapists work. She’ll be nagging at him to open up to her soon, and that’s the one thing Connor doesn’t want to talk about with her. He doesn’t want to talk about it with anyone.


	13. 13

“What if they don’t like me?”

“Why wouldn’t they like you?”

“I don’t know! I’ve never met a guy’s parents before!” Connor gestures wildly. “What am I even supposed to say to them, ‘Nice to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Hampton. Thanks for procreating, your son’s dick is my favorite thing in the world’?”  
  
Oliver laughs and shakes his head. “Well no, I’d hope you’d keep the conversation a little more PG than that.”  
  
“See?” Connor pouts. “I’m useless.”  
  
“Hey, I mean it though.” Oliver reaches out and takes Connor’s hand in his. “There’s no reason why they won’t love you.”  
  
Connor’s about to respond, but he sees Oliver’s eyes look past him, and before he knows it Oliver’s parents are being seated at the table and introductions are being made.

They seem nice enough, but as the night goes on Connor keeps noticing how critical they are of everything Oliver does. They’re forcibly polite to Connor, but the majority of the conversation is focused on how Oliver is doing in his classes, and Connor sits quietly while they interrogate his boyfriend on why he got a B on one of his exams. He watches as Oliver slumps lower in his seat, and he has to bite his tongue to keep from lashing out at the Hamptons. He hates seeing Oliver look this sad, and he hates that it’s Oliver’s own parents that are the ones making him look that way.

The final straw for Connor is when Oliver’s father suggests he could improve his already almost perfect grades by spending more time studying and less time with his friends. He doesn’t miss the pointed glance that’s thrown in his direction, and he bristles.

“With all due respect, Mr. and Mrs. Hampton, but you clearly don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Connor!” Oliver looks horrified, but Connor knows he should stop, but he’s never been that great at keeping his mouth shut when he should.

“I really think you should cut him some slack. Oliver is the most responsible and hardest working person I know, and getting one B on a test doesn’t mean that he’s slacking off! I don’t mean to be rude, but I love your son and I think he’s one of the best people I’ve ever known, and you should be proud of him, not criticizing him.”

The table falls silent after his outburst, and Connor knows he’s fucked up. Again.

It seems like all he ever does lately is fuck things up.

Oliver’s father clears his throat and starts talking about some relative of theirs. Connor stays quiet for the rest of the meal, only speaking up when he’s asked a question, which isn’t often.

 

They’re saying goodbye to Oliver’s parents afterwards when Mrs. Hampton turns to Connor.

“It was nice to meet you, Connor.” She surprises him by pulling him into a hug. “I don’t appreciate the way you spoke to us,” she says quietly into his ear, “but I do appreciate that you love my son enough to stand up for him.”

She pulls back and squeezes his arms, giving him a quick smile before she follows her husband into their waiting cab.

Oliver’s father hadn’t given much of a goodbye to Connor, but he feels relieved that at least his mother doesn’t completely hate him.

“Well, that didn’t go as expected,” he jokes weakly, turning to Oliver.

The other boy glares at him. “Let’s just get home, okay?”

He starts walking off quickly, and Connor hurries to keep up with him. He knows Oliver is pissed at him, so he stays quiet as they practically speed walk back to campus.

Oliver storms ahead of him into the house and stomps up the stairs to their room, Connor trailing after him.

“I cannot believe you did that,” Oliver hisses after Connor closes the door.  
  
“I was just trying to help,” he defends himself.  
  
Oliver spins around, furious. “I didn’t ask you to do that! You can’t just butt in to my family business, Connor! You have no idea what kind of dynamic we have! In my family, we don’t raise our voices at our parents. We don’t argue with them. We just smile, and nod, and then get on with our lives once they’ve gone home.”  
  
“I’m sorry,” Connor whispers. “I didn’t know.”  
  
“It’s fine,” Oliver says, but his voice sounds strained still, and his face looks tense.  
  
“I can tell it’s not.”  
  
“Can we just drop it?” The frustration in his voice is clear, and Connor just nods in response.  
  
He expects Oliver to want space tonight, but when he climbs into his own bed the other boy just looks at him.  
  
“What are you doing?”  
  
“Going to bed, what does it look like I’m doing?”  
  
“Don’t be stupid. Come here.” Oliver motions towards the empty space beside him.   
  
Connor pushes his sheets aside and gladly takes his usual spot, his back pressed up against Oliver.

“I keep screwing up,” he says softly. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why you put up with me.”

“Don’t say that,” Oliver starts trailing kisses down his neck. “I don’t put up with you, Connor. I _love_ you. And I know you were just trying to stick up for me tonight. I’m sorry I got so upset with you.”  
  
Connor feels too wired to sleep, even though he hasn’t taken anything all day, and he’s pretty sure Oliver feels the same way. That’s when he feels Oliver’s hand reaching into his sweatpants, stroking his dick. Connor’s eyelids flutter shut, and he thrusts forward, pressing himself into Oliver’s palm. The other boy takes it as an invitation to initiate further, and he tugs Connor’s pants down, then wraps his hand around his cock, working it slowly until he’s fully hard. He can feel Oliver’s own erection pressed against him, and he whines.

“I need you, Ollie. Please.”  
  
“Get the lube.” Oliver pulls back, hastily undressing as Connor digs through the bedside table, finally producing the bottle of lube and a condom. Oliver takes them both, then opens the lube and starts pouring some out, slicking up his fingers.  
  
“How do you want me?”   
  
“On your back.”  
  
Connor is quick to oblige, laying back and spreading his legs. He gasps as he feels Oliver’s finger slowly working its way inside of him. It feels like ages before he adds another one, and Connor wants to cry in frustration.  
  
“Hurry up,” he all but snaps, not even caring how desperate he sounds.   
  
Oliver just laughs, but he starts scissoring his fingers, opening him up. He finally feels the other boy’s fingers leaving him and sighs in relief. He lays still while his boyfriend slips the condom on and lubes it up.  
  
“Ride me?” Oliver sounds uncharacteristically shy for someone who’s just had his fingers up someone’s ass, like he was worried Connor would say no or something. Like Connor could ever say no to anything Oliver asked of him.  
  
He pushes Oliver down onto his back, then swiftly straddles him, leaning down to kiss him deeply. He raises himself up just enough for Oliver to line his dick up with his hole, and then he’s finally, finally, sinking down, finally being filled up.  
  
“Fuck you feel so good,” Oliver groans. He runs his hands up Connor’s thighs, resting them on his hips. His touch sends electricity through Connor’s body.  
  
“Yeah?” Connor rolls his hips, adjusting to having Oliver inside of him before he starts to move up and down.   
  
Oliver grasps hold of his dick, working it at an equal pace to Connor’s movements. His other hand grasps at Connor’s ass cheek, squeezing it. They’re both cautious not to make too much noise, their gasps and moans held back as much as possible. It takes him an embarrassingly short amount of time before he feels like he’s going to explode. He’ll blame Oliver’s teasing for getting him all worked up, if the other boy ever mentions it. He slows down and all but collapses onto Oliver’s chest. He presses his face into his boyfriend’s shoulder, biting down to keep from being too loud as he comes. Oliver rolls them over and starts pounding into Connor, and it doesn’t take much longer for him to come as well. He pulls out and disposes of the condom, then pulls Connor into a deep kiss.  
  
“Damn, we should fight more often. The makeup sex is amazing.”   
  
Oliver laughs. “Yeah, that was pretty great.”  
  
They curl up together, their legs intertwined as they lay facing each other. Oliver takes a finger, runs it up and down his arm, tracing invisible patterns onto his skin. Connor feels warm, so safe and happy, something he’d spent so long doubting he’d ever feel. He wants more than anything to freeze this moment, to live in it forever.   
  
“You’re so handsome,” Oliver whispers, breaking the silence that’s fallen over the room. “God, I am so in love with you.”  
  
“I love you too.” Connor pulls Oliver closer to him, kissing him deeply. ****__  
  
“I’m so happy the sex is so great between us,” Oliver tells him. “It was awful with my first boyfriend.”   
  
“Poor baby,” Connor laughs. “What was it like?”  
  
Oliver groans, bringing his hands to cup his cheeks before dropping them and laughing. “It was Freshman year. He was a Junior, and I thought that meant he’d know what he was doing, but I don’t think he even lasted more than two minutes. I didn’t even get to come at all.”  
  
“Oh God, that sounds awful.”  
  
“It was. We dated for a while, though, and it slightly improved the more we did it, but it was nothing like how it is with you.”  
  
“And what was his name?”  
  
Oliver’s silent for a while, then says quietly, “It was Thomas.”  
  
“Thomas? God, no wonder I hated that guy.”  
  
“You hated him?” Oliver sounds surprised.  
  
“Of course I did, Ollie. He was all over you and I didn’t even realize how I felt about you then, but I was so jealous.”  
  
Oliver kisses him. “No reason to be jealous, babe. You’re the only one I’ve been in love with.”  
  
He should have seen it coming, because of course Oliver would ask him in return, but he’s still caught off guard when Oliver speaks again.  
  
“What about you? What was your first time like?”  
  
Connor hesitates, but Oliver is looking at him with such tender eyes that he can’t help but tell him the truth.  
  
“I was thirteen,” Connor tells him. “It was with a fifteen-year-old guy at my summer camp.”  
  
He sighs and rolls onto his back, closing his eyes so he won’t have to see the look on Oliver’s face. “We were caught, and it became a huge scandal. He was older, but I was told it was my fault, that I had seduced him. Like a thirteen-year-old knows how to seduce anyone. There were boys from my school at that camp, and they made damn sure everyone back home knew about it.”  
  
He clenches his jaw, trying not to cry. “I got bullied at school. No one wanted to be friends with the kid who got caught being fucked by another guy. Even the teachers and administration had it out for me. And rather than supporting me, my parents chose to stop loving me instead.”  
  
“I’m so sorry.” Oliver whispers, sounding like he’s holding back tears as well. Connor shrugs and opens his eyes, turning to gaze into Oliver’s warm brown ones, watches the tears threatening to spill out of them.   
  
“Anyway, my parents sent me to therapy. I guess they wanted to make sure “The Incident””, Connor makes air quotes with his fingers, “wouldn’t leave any lasting effects on me, and when they realized I was into dicks long before that summer, it was like they just gave up on me as their son. That’s when I started having panic attacks and anxiety. My shrink dad decided to drug me up to help keep me in line. How’s that for irony? They turned the son they were so afraid would embarrass them into an addict. I hated them so much. I started hooking up with any guy who showed any interest in me, partly because I just wanted to get back at them. I felt so lost; the only thing I was sure of was that I’m gay. I started sleeping around with any guy who’d have me, just to feel some affection for a few minutes.”   
  
His tears finally start falling, and he lets out a humorless laugh. “I became a gay, addicted whore, their worst nightmare. They fucking hate me.”  
  
“Connor.” Oliver’s voice is thick, tears staining his own cheeks. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry you had to go through all of that.”  
  
“Please don’t feel sorry for me,” Connor pleads. “That’s why I never tell anyone. I don’t like being vulnerable. I can’t handle the pitying looks and people tiptoeing around me, being so careful not to say something that’ll upset me.”  
  
Oliver nods, wiping Connor’s tears away before wiping away his own. He pulls Connor into his arms, pressing a kiss against his temple.  
  
“Baby?”   
  
“Mm?”  
  
“You said you never tell anyone about what happened. Why did you tell me?”  
  
He looks at Oliver and shrugs. “Because I trust you.”  
  
Oliver’s looking at him, and Connor’s certain he must understand the implication behind his words. He trusts Oliver in a way he’s never trusted anyone before.  
    
“Sometimes it’s so hard remembering who I used to be, before all of this happened.” His confession hangs in the air, somehow feeling heavier than any other part of their conversation. He sniffs. “God, I’m sorry. I’ve just gone and ruined the mood again.”  
  
“Don’t ever apologize for telling me how you feel,” Oliver tells him earnestly. “You mean everything to me.”  
  
Connor doesn’t know how to respond, so he just buries his face into Oliver’s chest and holds onto him. It takes him a while, but he’s finally lulled into sleep by Oliver rubbing his back gently, occasionally pressing kisses onto the top of his head.  


**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on Tumblr at lilafowlers


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